


Go Away Closer

by Faeymouse



Series: GAC Universe [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Amputation, Art, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome, Suitless Darth Vader, Unhealthy Relationships, Vaderkin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:47:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 42,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24891838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faeymouse/pseuds/Faeymouse
Summary: 'Go Away Closer' aka a double bind: where every decision you make feels like the wrong one. However, in Zen Buddhism, it's also viewed as a path to enlightenment. The impossible question with no correct answer.This is a Star Wars AU, a Mustafar AU to be exact, where Obi-Wan doesn't cut Anakin down to size and everything changes because of it.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Darth Vader, Padmé Amidala & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Darth Vader
Series: GAC Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056950
Comments: 199
Kudos: 282
Collections: favourite fics from a galaxy far far away





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic holds a special place in my heart, being the first multi-chapter fic I ever posted nearly half a decade ago. I never finished the damn thing -- 'til now, but since I haven't had the chance to properly sit back, reread, and edit all the previously posted chapters before now I thought, well hey, no time like the present! What you read below is basically the vanilla fic, spruced up a bit by the eye of experience. If you happen upon any glaringly obvious errors, forget I said that last bit. 
> 
> Enjoy~

Their battle seemed to take a lifetime to end, but once it did Anakin felt the toll it had taken deep within his bones. He paused and allowed himself the luxury of finally catching his breath, for the first time in what seemed like centuries.

The acrid air of Mustafar made Tatooine look like a paradise by comparison, burning his sinuses and throat. He would be more than happy to be rid of it as soon as possible.

Not two meters away from where he stood, Obi-Wan Kenobi lay unmoving against black ash and sand.

Anakin didn't give his next few actions much thought. He simply _acted;_ a tactic he had always excelled at. He gathered up his former Master carefully in his arms. Reaching out with the Force to pry open the unconscious man's mind, he secured their old bond tightly before quickly severing every other link Obi-Wan had to the Force.

Anakin groaned in relief even as Obi-Wan gasped in pain.

The journey back to the landing platform was silent, save for the roar of the fires that boiled the sky to black all around them. Anakin strode confidently up the ramp of the Naboo star skiff, past both Artoo and Threepio. Neither droid made a move to stop him.

He laid Obi-Wan down on a bunk in the rear compartment, across from Padmé. _His_ Padmé, he thought. _His_ Obi-Wan. Where he could keep them both safe. With one lingering touch to each, he made his way into the cockpit.

He entered the coordinates for Coruscant into the navicomputer, before switching the skiff to autopilot. He was eager to return to the back of the tiny craft. Anakin could never stand to be alone for too long, after all, and Vader was no different.

**~*~**

Obi-Wan drifted.

For what seemed like an eternity within a place of soft emptiness, his mind and body felt as one. _Is this death,_ he wondered. Was he now one with the Force, as Qui had always suggested he would be once his end finally met him?

Instinctively, he reached out in search of his old Master. Perhaps, perhaps...but the seeking mental tendrils found nothing, save for the quiet echo of a voice as Obi-Wan began to wake.

_The Force is always with you. Be strong, Obi-Wan_.

He wasn't sure that he could be. As Obi-Wan became conscious of his surroundings, he was only vaguely aware of being pulled from a bacta tank, and laid upon an operating table. He shivered violently against the cold metal as he was toweled off, then injected in his arm with Force only knows what. It sent molten fingers down his left arm, and he cried out pitifully as they crawled throughout his entire body, burning everything in their wake. His back arched as if to escape the flames coursing through him, but hands -- droid and humanoid alike -- held him fast.

His cries eventually settled into feeble whimpers as the pain subsided, and the molten fingers hardened in his veins. He fell back against the operating table of his own accord, suddenly feeling as though his entire body was too heavy to move.

A breathing mask was placed across the bottom of his face, and he was glad for it. He needn't even worry about breathing now. His chest felt like it was made of duracrete.

The various hands holding him down pulled away, save one. A flesh hand smoothed the hair from Obi-Wan's forehead, a soothing gesture incredibly at odds with such a sterile and impersonal place. He pressed into the warm, welcoming touch -- even going so far as to whine when it, too, finally lifted away.

The world faded along with it, and the welcome emptiness beckoned to him once more.

**~*~**

When Obi-Wan awoke a second time, he was much more aware of himself. Instead of cold metal beneath him, he felt the soft touch of bed sheets. His entire body felt stiff and unused, and when he attempted to move, his head swam. He managed to shift a little beneath the heavy blanket atop him, every movement like a nail jabbing into his skull. He would have lost himself blindly to the pain of waking, if a small hand hadn't stilled him.

"Careful, or you'll open up your wound again."

_That voice..._

Obi-Wan cracked an eye open, immediately regretting it when the bedside light left spots dancing in his dark-accustomed eyes.

"Padmé?" he rasped.

The blurry figure flashed white teeth down at him. As his vision adjusted, he began to make out large, dark eyes, and thick, curly brown hair. It fell messily from the Senator's head. In fact, her entire demeanor seemed remarkably unadorned compared to her usual haute appearance. Obi-Wan tried to place why that might be, but his brain was so fuddled he could barely string two words together.

He licked at his badly chapped lips. "Water?" he managed.

She nodded, leaning away for a moment. He heard the sounds of a pitcher being emptied before she straightened back up with a small cup in one hand, and helped Obi-Wan to sit up with the other.

"Thank you," he said, and lifted up his left hand to grab it from her...

...only to find that his hand wasn’t there.

Shock lanced through him, and he lowered the stump back down with deliberate care. His arm (or at least, what remained of it) was wrapped down to where his elbow had once been in medical dressings. It felt abnormally heavy, and hot to the touch when he curled his other hand around it. Memory followed soon after, swift and unforgiving.

Right. This was Anakin's doing. Obi-Wan remembered--

_the hot, choking ash of Mustafar; Anakin drunk with the power of the Dark Side; Padmé nearly dead upon the landing platform; their battle;_ his _advantage._

_Oh yes, that was something he had known even then would haunt him always. Anakin was far from a dullard when it came to tactics, some even called him a genius with them -- especially ones involved in lightsaber combat, like Sokan -- but at that moment, he was too blinded by his own rage to see that he had been beaten._

_Obi-Wan had the higher ground, yet Anakin still leapt. The headstrong fool._

_And Obi-Wan had allowed his advantage to sieve through his fingers, like the black sands of that horrid planet._

_He couldn't do it. He was weak and he knew the galaxy would suffer for it, but it hadn't mattered to him in that moment. He would not have Anakin Skywalker's blood on his hands. Even if they were already irreversibly stained by proxy from his former apprentice's actions, Obi-Wan still paused._

_Did Anakin see his hesitation? Did he even care?_

_Anakin landed just short of him, and in that breath time stood still. His friend's Sith-sick eyes seemed to clear for a single, wonderful moment, and they were as blue as the waters in the Room of a Thousand Fountains; a patch of the past amid that infernal present that had swirled around them._

_They had both lowered their lightsabers -- Obi-Wan dropped his when that tiny moment of hope fluttered before him._

_He had brought up his hand, and stepped toward Anakin. His dearest friend...if there was even a sliver of a chance he could bring him back, Obi-Wan would reach for it. He had always been stubborn like that._

_He had been so sure, and Anakin had rewarded that optimism by bringing his lightsaber up in a sudden, vicious uppercut, slicing Obi-Wan down..._

"Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan! Hey!"

Obi-Wan blinked, and found himself once again in the room he had woken up in, far from the suffocating darkness of Mustafar. Padmé was shaking him with a concerned expression on her face.

Obi-Wan didn't realise he was shaking at first, nor that tears had sprung from his eyes and were collecting in his beard. He took a shaky, gasping breath and willed himself to calm down. He couldn't understand why it took so much more effort to achieve than usual.

"I'm-I'm fine," he finally said, once the shaking had run its course. He squeezed one of Padmé's hands comfortingly, and offered her what must have been a rather weak smile, if her face was any judge.

"No, you're not," she said simply.

Obi-Wan took in another breath, and let it out slowly. "I will be," he answered.

That seemed to satisfy her, and she leaned back in her seat beside the bed. She picked up the cup of water again and brought it to his mouth.

"Drink," she ordered.

Obi-Wan closed his lips around the edge, and swallowed gratefully. The cool liquid did wonders for his parched throat, and seemed to clear his mind as well.

"Thank you," he repeated.

She placed the empty cup on the side table beside the pitcher. "Of course. Are you hungry?"

Obi-Wan shook his head, taking a moment to look around the room. It definitely wasn't a medical facility, judging by the lack of anything even remotely resembling medical equipment.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Coruscant," replied Padmé. "I'm not sure where on the planet exactly."

Obi-Wan's brow furrowed and he leaned back against his pillows. His muscles knotted uncomfortably beneath his sleep tunic with the movement. "How long have I been asleep?" he asked.

Padmé answered him with surprising calm. "Nearly two months now."

Obi-Wan sat straight back up and gaped at her. _"Two months?"_ he repeated, incredulously. A few days, with a wound like this, he could understand, but _weeks?_ _Months?_ "How?"

Padmé lifted her thin shoulders up and let them drop in one of the most informal reactions Obi-Wan had ever seen the young politician give.

"I'm not sure," she said apologetically. "It has something to do with the Force, that's all I know. At least, that's what Anakin tells me. He says...he had to sever your link to the Force. Apparently, the way it was done has very intense after-effects."

Obi-Wan hardly heard her words as his mind buzzed with worry. Cut off from the Force...was that why it took so much effort to calm himself? He allowed his awareness to expand, as he had been taught to do as a youngling. He should have been able to immerse in that inherent power that had been his closest companion since birth, but all that greeted him was a block. Large, imposing, and completely impenetrable.

He had never felt so helpless.

When he realised that Padmé was waiting for his reply, he spoke, his voice stiff and low. "Is he here as well?"

He must have let more of his unease seep into his voice then he intended, because Padmé shook her head, understanding immediately what he had left unsaid.

"Not at the moment, and he won't be for a few hours yet," she answered reassuringly. "Sometimes, he's even gone for days." As she said that, however, her eyes glanced warily around the room.

Obi-Wan's did the same, spotting the tell-tale flash of a security holorecorder hidden in the paneling of one of the walls.

"He'll be back sooner than that," he said, matter-of-factly. He wondered if Anakin was even watching them right now, or if he was already speeding his way over as they spoke to finish killing him off.

Padmé nodded solemnly. "We still have some time. He'll be happy to see you awake."

Obi-Wan laughed caustically, so harsh and loud that Padmé twitched in astonishment.

"Oh, I'm sure," Obi-Wan continued. "He was perfectly _delighted_ to see me on Mustafar, after all."

Padmé's face hardened. "Actually, I believe I still need to speak to you about that."

Obi-Wan looked sidelong at her and sighed. "I'm not going to apologize. If I hadn't been there, Anakin could have killed you."

"He very nearly did, and you as well."

Obi-Wan tilted his head away from her deep gaze, suddenly unable to meet it. "So, what is there left to talk about, then?"

"Would you prefer to act as if it had never happened?" Padmé demanded coolly.

Obi-Wan pulled his knees up to his chest beneath the blanket and didn't answer her.

Padmé didn't miss a beat. "Whatever either of us wishes, there's nothing we can do to change what happened. We can only focus on what's to come. I shouldn't have gone off on my own, I am sorry for that, but you should've asked before you stowed away upon my ship," she smiled ever so slightly. "It might have saved you an uncomfortable ride at the very least."

Obi-Wan glanced at her and smiled back. Senator Amidala had an uncanny ability to cut to the heart of any matter, yet enough compassion to make others comfortable with her bluntness. It was an odd combination indeed, but one Obi-Wan found rather refreshing.

"All right, I apologize for stowing away. I'll make sure to ask your permission next time."

Padmé leaned forward in her chair. "See that you do," she stated in the overly monotone voice she had once used during her reign as Queen of Naboo. It made them both snicker. It felt good to laugh.

**~*~**

A chime echoed through the room, and Padmé stood, turning toward the door panel.

"He's never gotten back this quickly before."

She did not need to say whom she meant.

The warmth of the last hour froze in Obi-Wan's chest, and he would have given anything in that moment to be able to melt into the wall, or even to simply close his eyes and pretend like none of this was happening. He never thought he could fear his own former padawan, the boy he'd raised since childhood, but the dread settling within him was as close to pure fear as one could get.

Padmé turned to him with one last reassuring look. "I won't leave you alone with him," she promised, just as the door slid open across from them.

The man who passed across the threshold was obviously Anakin, and yet not. Everything about him seemed ever so slightly off, like a picture hanging crooked. Obi-Wan couldn't figure out what it was that told him something had changed. This man was still tall, and had to stoop slightly as he entered; still had that maddeningly tousled hair that couldn't seem to decide between blond or brunet; still had that scar across his eye, and that lopsided way of smiling when something pleased him. Even his voice sounded the same as he took wide, eager steps over to the bedside.

"Obi-Wan."

There was no malice in the words. None of that snarling, spitting hatred Obi-Wan had witnessed on Mustafar. It was so eerily normal that Obi-Wan found himself unable to formulate an answer back.

He need not have worried. Anakin didn't seem to care if he answered or not, at least for the moment. He pressed a quick kiss to Padmé's cheek (and even glanced at Obi-Wan as he did. Why? Did he expect him to be scandalized by one bloody kiss?) as he unclasped his cape. It was large, black, and excessively theatrical -- completely Anakin. He draped it across the back of her chair and took a seat himself.

"Honey, do you think you could get us something to drink?" he asked.

Padmé smiled sweetly and gestured to the side table. "Already did, dear."

"Eat, then?"

"Try checking in the tureen. It's right there."

Anakin sighed. "Do you really need to be like this? Just go."

Padmé stood her ground. "I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you."

Obi-Wan felt a dark quiver in the room. Nearly imperceptible.

"Padmé--" Anakin warned softly.

"I'm staying, Anakin."

"No, you're not."

Padmé stepped closer, until she seemed to loom over Anakin. "I'm staying," she said with finality. "Or are you going to force me to leave?"

The dark quiver became a constant thrum, heavy and thick. The fact that Padmé could stand there and act as if it was nothing astonished Obi-Wan. He didn't think he could ever respect her more than he did in that moment.

Anakin tapped on his knee impatiently. "You know I couldn't make you even if I tried. I'll only ask you nicely one more time: _please,_ just leave."

Padmé lifted her chin defiantly. "No, I will not."

Obi-Wan's hand shot out to grasp Anakin's wrist tightly, just as it had begun to lift. He wasn't sure what he had expected to happen, but he knew he had to put an end to it. _Now._

"It's okay," Obi-Wan swallowed dryly when he felt Anakin's eyes settle on him. He refused to take his own away from Padmé's. "I'll be alright."

Padmé was even prepared to argue with him. "But you don't--"

"I promise," Obi-Wan felt his hand begin to tremble slightly where it gripped Anakin, and the effort it took to keep his fingers curled around the leather glove made him begin to ache. Even this small action tired him out; that wasn't a good sign. "I'm not alone."

"He has me," Anakin added in.

Padmé looked at Obi-Wan a moment longer, the urge to disobey plain in her dark eyes, but when Obi-Wan silently mouthed _'please'_ she finally relented. Placing a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, she said, "I'll be just a room away," before leaving without another word to Anakin.

Once she was gone, and the door had slid completely shut behind her, Obi-Wan released Anakin's wrist and tucked his hand underneath the covers. It refused to stop shaking.

Anakin's eyes lingered on the doorway a few seconds longer than necessary, then flicked back to Obi-Wan.

"You didn't have to do that," he said, rolling his wrist around. "I would never hurt her."

"How can you be so sure?" Obi-Wan replied, unable to get himself to meet Anakin's gaze. He was terrified of what he might see. "Last I recall, you nearly choked her to death because she refused to rule the galaxy with you."

He realised he shouldn't have mentioned that before he had even finished speaking, but he was too late in taking it back. Phantom fingers began to close around his windpipe, and he took a great breath, waiting for them to inevitably tighten.

They didn't, but they didn't leave either. They lingered, like a sickness.

"We all made mistakes on Mustafar, but that's in the past, and it shall stay there," Anakin said, threateningly. "Don't mention it again in my presence. Understand?"

And there was the imperious Sith Lord Obi-Wan had only glimpsed on Mustafar. The one that expected his every order to be followed to the letter, regardless of what one thought of them. Anakin had been an arrogant Jedi Knight, but at least he had been able to admit he could be wrong.

Obi-Wan clenched his jaw against the scathing remarks just waiting to be given voice, and nodded.

"There. That wasn't so hard now was it, Master?" Anakin laughed lightly, and suddenly Obi-Wan felt a gloved hand envelop his own over the covers. It was Anakin's mechanical one. The morbidly curious part of Obi-Wan's mind wondered how much effort it would take for his flesh hand to be crushed by it.

"I'm glad I get the chance to talk to you again."

Obi-Wan held his hand in a clenched fist, wishing it would just stay still.

"Well, then. Talk." he answered.

"How about you first? You must be confused," Anakin leaned forward. "Don't you want to know what's happened with the galaxy while you've been in your trance?"

"I assume nothing good."

The hand over his tightened. "On the contrary, Master, it's been nothing _but_ good. The Clone Wars are over. The galaxy is officially at peace."

"And the Order?" Obi-Wan whispered.

The invisible fingers tightened around his throat, just enough to make movement uncomfortable.

Anakin rubbed a stray curl of hair out of his face. "Don't worry yourself over that. The Jedi were traitorous and corrupt. You should be thankful that they're gone."

Obi-Wan couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Are you mad?" he snapped. "If that's the case, then I'm as much a traitor as any of them. Should I expect to have a battalion of clone troopers wake me up tomorrow morning for my execution? Or will you wait until I least expect it, and stab me in t--"

The Force-hand around his throat constricted horribly, tightening until the last of his words became gurgling gasps. Obi-Wan's bare feet dug into the mattress, and he craned his neck in a vain attempt at escape. He would have brought his remaining hand to his throat, too, if Anakin had simply let it go. As it was, he couldn't move; he couldn't fight nor flee; he was trapped.

His vision began to tunnel.

"You should be grateful that I showed you mercy," Anakin chastised him sharply. He stood up from his chair and bent over Obi-Wan, his right hand moving to tangle itself in the hem of Obi-Wan's tunic. Anakin pulled him up until his shoulders no longer rested against the mound of pillows, and his voice was a dangerously fast murmur, dripping with contempt.

"I don't want to kill you, Obi-Wan, and I won't need to as long as you behave and do as I say." He gave Obi-Wan a hard shake. "Which means you shouldn't make a habit of purposefully antagonizing me. You aren't a traitor; you were just an unwitting pawn of the Jedi Council. I know Yoda sent you to kill me, and I know...I know you couldn't do it."

Anakin's grip loosened, on Obi-Wan's tunic and around his neck, and Obi-Wan took the opportunity to guzzle down as much air as he could. He was dropped unceremoniously back onto the bed, still gasping like a fish, and Anakin pulled completely away from him.

His former apprentice sat back in his chair with a huff, and ran a hand down the length of his face. Obi-Wan thought he saw bright yellow peeking out between the fingers, but when he pulled his hand away, Anakin's eyes were only a dark, cloudy blue.

"You couldn't do it," he repeated, and smiled at Obi-Wan. "And that's why I let you live. Why I brought you back to Coruscant, patched you up, even found a safe place for you to stay" He gestured around the room. "I'm trying to apologize."

_Everyone is today._ Obi-Wan rubbed at his throat and coughed as Anakin watched him expectantly.

Obi-Wan couldn't help but ask in a scratchy voice. "What?"

Anakin sucked in his lips and shrugged, "Oh I dunno. Some gratitude would be nice. Maybe a _'thank you, Anakin'."_

_"For?"_

Anakin laughed. "What do you mean _'for'?"_ he asked, mimicking Obi-Wan's heavy Coruscanti accent. "For not leaving your ass back on Mustafar."

Obi-Wan leaned forward on his elbow, wobbling a bit because of how off balance his body was. "I thought this was supposed to be an apology. You shouldn't expect a thank you for an apology."

Anakin folded his arms over his chest. "It's common courtesy, and if there's anything I remember you teaching me, it's that courtesy is never wasted."

Obi-Wan straightened up in the bed, his mind numb and exhausted, but adrenaline building in his body. He beckoned with his one hand, "Come a bit closer, and I'll show you some common courtesy."

"What?" Anakin's brows furrowed, and he snorted as he tilted forward again. "What do you--?"

Obi-Wan would be proud to say that he got in at least one good punch before Anakin had a hold of him again, and he did not regret it in the slightest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all,
> 
> Just wanted a quick thank you to everyone that has kudos'd, commented, and all that awesome stuff back on the first chapter! You're making getting back into this a blast and I appreciate it. Thank you <3
> 
> Enjoy~

To say Obi-Wan didn't regret his outburst may have been an exaggeration.

He certainly didn't regret the action itself, but he did regret the outcome. Or, really, he regretted the manacle now connecting him to his bed.

His little act of resistance hadn't lasted as long as he would have liked. Anakin had wrestled him back into submission quick enough, and when all was said and done, he'd produced the electrocuffs from a hidden pocket on his outfit.

"Always come prepared," he said, jingling them slightly before closing one end around Obi-Wan's wrist and the other to the bedpost. And that had been that.

Padmé was as restless as a caged reek, pattering just outside the closed door. At least she was free to move around as she pleased, Obi-Wan thought glumly.The restraint bit painfully into the soft flesh of his wrist.

"What if I need to use the 'fresher?" Obi-Wan asked Anakin petulantly, as he tugged at his new bindings. "Shall I be forced to call upon you to lead me by hand each time I require it?"

A vindictive smile stretched across Anakin's face.

"That's exactly what you'll have to do, my old Master." he answered, and grabbed at Obi-Wan's hand. In another lifetime, when he was another man, Anakin would have broken his hold when Obi-Wan jerked at the touch. But not now. Perhaps never again. His grip stayed iron tight as he used the enhanced strength of his durasteel hand to peel Obi-Wan's clenched fingers open. He stroked the meat of Obi-Wan's palm thoughtfully with his thumb, utterly unconcerned with Obi-Wan's attempts at pulling away.

When Obi-Wan finally ceased his efforts with a frustrated grunt, Anakin spoke again.

"Just call whenever you need me," he said. "And I'll come."

"I _don't_ need you, Anakin," Obi-Wan answered, icily.

Anakin hummed and freed Obi-Wan's hand. "Not yet," he said, moving to the doorway and turning out the light. "Goodnight, Obi-Wan."

His eyes glowed like sickly twin suns in the dark.

**~*~**

Obi-Wan was given one thankfully Anakin-free night, but woke the next morning to find his former pupil standing over him

"Stay _away_ from me!" Obi-Wan shouted, his entire body immediately vibrating with rage as he pushed himself up. Anakin seemed to enjoy the unusual display of emotion, and he sat down next to Obi-Wan's feet with a small smile on his face.

"I just came by to say good morning."

"You just have. Now get out,"Obi-Wan snapped. "Your very presence disgusts me."

"Grum- _py,"_ Anakin said, fiddling with one of Obi-Wan's toes before his hand was kicked savagely away. "I'm going to be leaving soon. At least say good morning back."

"Leave."

Anakin sighed, and leaned back on his hands. "I will, once you say good morning to me."

"Fine, " Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. "Good morning, Anakin. Would you kindly kriff off?"

With that, Obi-Wan lay back down and turned as much as he could from Anakin. It was an awkward position, considering his amputated arm was still too tender to have much pressure put on it, and the manacle wouldn't allow him to turn over completely anyway. But Obi-Wan could live with the discomfort. Anything, as long as it meant he wouldn't have to look at Anakin.

He didn't feel the bed shift, which meant that Anakin hadn't moved. Obi-Wan felt a shiver crawl down the back of his neck as he felt the younger man's eyes burning holes into the back of his head.

"Please, just go," he begged.

"I don't want to just yet." Anakin answered, and the bed creaked as he moved into a more comfortable position on his belly, with his arms crossed beneath his chin.

It was a spot he'd taken on Obi-Wan's other bed many times before in the Jedi Temple, when he'd still been a Padawan and Obi-Wan a Knight with a braid only barely cut. It tended to only happen when Anakin was called away to attend classes early in the morning, and Obi-Wan - with no missions to attend to and no child to mind- had inclined to linger in bed a bit longer than necessary. Anakin would return to find him sifting through HoloNet newsfeeds or reading from a datapad, and without a word would clamor in beside him until Obi-Wan decided to get up. Obi-Wan had never said so, but he'd always found the act endearing.

As the years had passed, however, it occurred less and less often, until Anakin finally gained his own Knighthood and moved past such childish antics.

The familiar wave of sentiment that washed across him had Obi-Wan questioning his anger, for a single sliver of a moment.

"You promised you'd leave." he added, in a softer voice.

"I said I'd leave," replied Anakin. "But I never said when."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and let it out loudly through his nose. He didn't say anything more, instead forcing his eyes shut. If he didn't prove entertaining enough, Anakin would surely lose interest and leave him be.

That decision proved about as sound as his last few had.

After a few minutes, his rage ebbed away. Anakin moved, and Obi-Wan shifted back around to look down at him.

"I missed you, Master," Anakin finally said, looking up at him. "I really did."

"I'm afraid I cannot say the same."

"It's so nice to hear your voice again. You don't know how difficult it was to walk in here and see you lying there day after day," Anakin rubbed thoughtfully at the bruise on his jaw. "I'm sorry I had to cuff you like that, but you should've picked a nicer way to say hello."

Obi-Wan didn't respond to that.

Anakin rolled onto his back and stretched like a cat.

"Why are you still so upset with me, Obi-Wan?" he asked, arms folded behind his head.

There were too many reasons why, but only one that Obi-Wan had the urge to voice now. "You took the Force from me."

Anakin pressed his lips together in a frown. "I did what I had to do, to make sure you didn't do anything stupid again. Besides," he gave Obi-Wan a smug look, like he had a secret that he was just itching to share. "I didn't take your every connection away."

Obi-Wan tucked in his chin down, staring down into the crosshatched embroidery of his blanket. He'd had his suspicions, ever since he had sensed the Dark Side energies swirling around Anakin the night before, but to have them proven true...

"My one connection left to the Force is you," he clarified.

Anakin grinned wolfishly. _"Precisely."_

Frigid fingers of panic seized at Obi-Wan's heart, and he gripped at the edge of his blanket.

"I can still hardly feel it."

"What else do you expect, Master?" Anakin arched an eyebrow at him. "I have to make sure I can trust you. If you're good, I'll reward you with more control. If you're not..." Anakin shrugged, and gave him an enigmatic look. "I'll take it all away."

Obi-Wan found it difficult to swallow all of a sudden.

"And a Sith’s definition of _good_ is what, exactly?" he asked, with as little sarcasm as he could muster.

Anakin mulled the question over as he got off the bed and took a few steps around the room.

"Being agreeable is a start. Just don't argue with me," he tapped at his chin. "And act like you used to."

"Like I used to?"

Anakin waved his hands emphatically. "We're still friends, Obi-Wan. I want to feel that connection again."

Obi-Wan didn't agree with that sentiment in the slightest. The Anakin he knew and cared for was buried deep within this new creature. Perhaps it was even dead. He wasn't sure what exactly smiled at him when he nodded in agreement.

"I do, too."

Anakin stepped up to him and wrapped a companionable arm around his shoulders. It took every ounce of discipline Obi-Wan possessed not to immediately pull away.

"I'm glad we understand one another." Anakin said against his ear. "Soon, things will be just like they used to be. You'll see."

 _Nothing can go back to how it was_ , Obi-Wan thought, but he kept that to himself.

**~*~**

Obi-Wan learned quite a few things about Padmé once Anakin left to do whatever sordid things a Sith Lord did. For one, he'd never quite realised just how stubborn she really was. As soon as Anakin left, she set to work attempting to unlock the cuff around his wrist.

"You know Anakin won't be happy about this," Obi-Wan mentioned listlessly.

"I don't particularly care. Now hold still, I think I've almost got it."

When an especially wretched mechanism snapped back onto her finger, Obi-Wan also learned that the former Queen of Naboo had quite the smuggler's mouth on her. He recognised several of the expletives as ones that Anakin was fond of using.

After multiple more attempts, and enough cursing to burn Obi-Wan's ear off, the manacle finally clicked open.

Padmé grinned at him, her entire face lighting up. "There we go."

Obi-Wan lifted up his wrist, as if to rub the numbness away, only to remember that he _couldn't._ His sour mood worsened, and Padmé must have noticed, because she placed her hand over his.

"Come on," she said, pulling the covers back and urging him to swing his legs over the side. "It's about time you got to walk around a bit."

Obi-Wan gave himself a moment to let his legs simply hang over the side of the bed. He could feel the equilibrium of his body swaying off balance thanks to the absence of his arm, and without a proper grip on the Force to act as a crutch, he worried he'd topple over if he tried to stand too quickly.

"Anakin will simply tether me down again once more when he returns," he said.

"But he won't be back for a while, and this time I'm sure of it," Padmé replied diplomatically. "It won't hurt to have you out of this room until then."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at her and glanced down at where his sleeve hung limply over his stump of an arm.

"True. I do still have three other limbs he could take."

Padmé gave him a pleading look.

"Please? It'll make you feel better, Obi-Wan."

 _Better._ How could anything make him feel better? Walking out of this room would only serve to show him just how small this prison really was, nothing more. Obi-Wan's heart clenched in his chest, and his mind started to pulse with doubt. For a moment, it felt like he wasn't even there. That nothing existed. That none of this was real; that _he_ wasn't real.

It was a confounding sensation, and was gone as quickly as it started.

He looked up at Padmé and forced himself to smile. She was only trying to help him, after all, and was just as trapped as he was.

"Perhaps later. I feel rather tired," he lied, laying himself back onto the bed. "Thank you for getting it off."

Padmé frowned, and looked about ready to drag him out herself. She might have too, if the need was large enough, but she wasn't Anakin. She wouldn't force the issue, especially if Obi-Wan didn't want her to.

"No problem," she said, and shifted a little on her feet. "You want the light left on?"

Obi-Wan pulled the blanket back up, and wrapped his arm around a pillow and he pulled it against him.

"No, thank you," he said.

She nodded and switched it off, flooding the room with a semi-darkness broken only by thin shafts of light from the window on the wall. Padmé moved back to the doorway, pausing just inside it. She turned, a small hand on the frame.

"It'll be okay," she said, and left him.

**~*~**

The next day, Padmé managed to coax him out. She used a slightly underhanded tactic -- not leaving anything for him to eat on the bedside table -- and called from the purposefully left open door that lunch was ready.

Obi-Wan's stomach gurgled loudly at the scrumptious aroma that accompanied the words, and he silently cursed himself for becoming so dependent on someone else as he pushed back the covers and swung his legs over the side.

The carpeting tickled the bottoms of his feet, and he pressed down experimentally. Everything seemed good so far. No pain or dizziness... _yet,_ a sly little voice sounding remarkably like Anakin whispered in his ear.

Obi-Wan shook his head clear of it and yelled as he stood. "I'll be there in a moment!"

He stood still for the better part of a minute, with his hand propping him up against the wall as he walked carefully along it. His knees didn't give out beneath him, that was good. Obi-Wan felt rather confident in his walking abilities by that point, and pulled his hand away from the support as he took a tentative step forward.

Bad idea.

His left knee buckled on the third step, and with no hand on that side of his body, he couldn't re-balance himself. Obi-Wan let out a sound rather unbecoming of a respectable Jedi Master as his right arm pinwheeled madly. He managed to correct himself just long enough to fall _back_ instead of forward, resulting in his new, sprawling seat on the floor.

Padmé rushed in as soon as she heard his scream, quickly moving to pull him back on his feet.

"Jedi need to learn to ask for help when they need it," she said, looping his arm over her shoulders.

"I didn't think I would require it, but I appreciate your help, Padmé."

"You'd better. The food could be ruined now,” she said, and led him out into the kitchen. It was only a small walk across a narrow hallway.

Obi-Wan glanced at the recipe opened up on a datapad as he was deposited in a chair at the kitchen table.

"I don't think it's possible for one to ruin a Nabooian Nerve Knocker."

Padmé grinned and pointed a large spoon at him. "You obviously haven't tried my cooking before."

"You mean to tell me you can run a government, but you can't cook?"

Padmé scoffed. " _Anybody_ can cook. I just know I need more practice." She placed a pot on the table and the spoon in his hand. "Go on. Try it."

Obi-Wan looked skeptically from his hand to the stew bubbling in the container before him. He wasn't usually the squeamish sort, but this was just...

"I think I just saw something move."

"It's only the broth settling. Don't be such a youngling."

"I nearly died very recently, you know. I don't particularly wish to make a habit of it," Obi-Wan said as he snagged a bit of what he hoped was meat and brought it to his mouth. If it smelled this good, maybe how it looked wouldn't matter.

Padmé smacked him lightly on the shoulder as she moved toward the pantry.

"Have you always been this rude?" she asked.

"Quite."

He didn't need to see her face to guess that she'd probably just rolled her eyes at him. He didn't mind too much. The food was delicious (despite the Senator's previous denouncement of her skills) and he even heard the telltale whistle of a kettle going off.

Tea always made him feel better.

**~*~**

For a someone not sensitive to the Force, Padmé was remarkably adept at blocking her thoughts and emotions, not only in her demeanor, but in her mind as well. Obi-Wan had always thought that was odd, and now he wondered if Anakin had taught her that. Then he quickly threw the thought aside. Anakin had never been one for Jedi mind tricks, even when he had counted himself amongst their number, and Obi-Wan highly doubted that shielding was something that had been at the forefront of his thoughts when he met with his wife.

 _His wife._ The words were hardly a shock -- he'd suspected something between the two since the start of the Clone Wars -- but to have it presented before him so blatantly still left him shaking his head in disbelief.

Padmé sat in a chair beside his bed. Obi-Wan had come to learn she disliked being alone about as much as Anakin did, but unlike the latter, Obi-Wan welcomed her company now.

Anakin hadn't been back in days. A mission from his new Master, no doubt, but it had left both him and Padmé in a relaxed mood. Relaxed enough that Obi-Wan didn't have any qualms with asking:

"So whose name do you share?"

Padmé cocked an elegant eyebrow at him, before popping a cube of fruit into her mouth from the bowl on the nightstand.

"You and Ana--your husband."

If the question shook her, she didn't show it.

"We didn't think much about it at the time," she finally answered. "Anakin and I were so eager to get married that it didn't matter..." A fond smile tugged at her lips as memory glossed over her eyes. "But if you're truly curious, it's customary on Naboo for men to take the family name of their wives."

Obi-Wan nearly choked on the slice of meiloorun he'd been about to swallow. After a few coughs and slaps on his back from the Senator, he looked up at her with watering eyes.

"That's the funniest thing I've heard in a long time."

Padmé was barely holding back a laugh of her own, but was able to attempt to look affronted.

"You'd mock the customs of my people, Master Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan straightened up, _giggling,_ much to his inner chagrin.

"I'd never, my lady. I'm simply trying to wrap my mind around _Anakin Naberrie_."

Padmé folded her arms across her chest. "It has a wonderful ring to it."

"Of course."

Padmé's expression turned wistful. "It's a shame no one heard it then, and no one will hear it now."

"That's not true," Obi-Wan cut in. "Things can still change. Perhaps even _he_ can still change."

"After what he's done?" Padmé countered, dark eyes bright. "To you, to the Jedi, to the Republic?"

"...And to you, I suppose?"

Padmé pushed aside his comment with a wave of her hand, before resting it on her belly. "It doesn't matter what he's done to me. It's nothing compared to what he's done, is _doing,_ to others while we sit locked up in this gilded cage."

"I doubt that."

Her eyebrows pinched together, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Obi-Wan gestured at her. "You're not pregnant anymore," was all he said.

Padmé's gaze settled on her feet. "No, I'm not."

"Yet I've yet to see a baby."

She shook her head, and there was a deep, painful lilt to her words. "That's because they're not here."

As she said that, Padmé gathered up the hem of her top and pulled it up. A pouch of skin laid over her stomach, crisscrossed with stretch marks, and beneath that a crescent-shaped scar stood out against her skin

After allowing Obi-Wan a chance to take it in, she lowered her shirt back down. A grim, determined look gracing her fair features.

"I don't know where they are," she said.

"They?"

She nodded. "Anakin told me. We have twins."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I'm currently doing a **[poll](https://forms.gle/QDDAz1azAfd5avAk8)** on what new fic idea to focus on writing in July. It closes at the end of today (July 1st), but if you'd like to vote it would help me out loads. I'm painfully bad at small decisions like this. Pure torture, man. The choices are a couple of fandoms that I frequent but haven't written for (yet), and then two that I have but not in those specific corners of fandom, if that makes sense? I'm sure it does. Anywho, many thank yous to anyone that votes! Please note this won't effect updates for this fic.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy~

The revelation and its implications felt like pressing on a bruise to Obi-Wan, and he could only continue to listen to Padmé desultorily, mind wandering.

 _Twins._ He feared what had become of them, and he feared whatever reason Anakin had to keep them away from Padmé. Obi-Wan could understand why she treated him with such disdain now.

What mother wouldn't?

His head ached. It felt like a balloon about to burst; had for quite some time now, and no amount of sleep seemed able to help. He considered asking Padmé for something-- any kind-- of medication, but thought better on it. Anakin wouldn't make it that simple. He wouldn't be able to _just_ ask.

So he gritted his teeth, and hoped that the feeling would fade.

**~*~**

Early the next morning, Obi-Wan woke with the gnawing urge to find a way out. Balancing himself carefully against the wall, mattress creaking ominously beneath his wobbling legs, he stood and reached for the window, peering into the spaces between the metal slats.

He needed to stretch on the tips of his toes just to get a clear view. He wasn't short, by any means, but a few extra centimetres would have been rather nice at that particular moment.

Outside, beyond the thick transparisteel, was a wall. Silver and glimmering. That was it. If he moved to the corner and strained his eyes just so, he could make out the distinct sunglint of skylane traffic as it flashed along nearby like a never-ending river.

Obi-Wan couldn't figure out where they were being kept from that small sliver of a view, but at least he could determine that they were being kept far enough uplevels to see the sky. At one time, the realization would have left him feeling hopeful. It would have been a simple task to break out once his strength returned, and made a mad dash for the Jedi Temple.

The idea that it was nothing more than a glorified graveyard now nearly sent him keeling over in grief. _What did they do with the bodies,_ a more morose side of his mind wondered. Had they been given an honorable funeral by pyre? Had their corpses been sent back to what families remained for them? Or had they been left to rot-- a testament to the sadism of the Sith? Obi-Wan found he didn't particularly wish to know.

He instead mulled over what the best course of action would be if he and Padmé escaped (not _if,_ he had to remind himself. _When_ ) as he sat back down on his bed and moved off of it toward the living room.

The babies were their immediate concern.

"We cannot abandon them," Padmé said firmly. They sat talking in hushed tones, their backs to the only security holorecorder Obi-Wan had sensed--or at least, _hoped_ he had sensed--in the room. It had been the only one Padmé had found, but she was convinced there were more.

Obi-Wan's connection to the Force was still feeble at best, and he didn't dare risk putting more strength into it, lest he alert Anakin. As long as they kept their voices low, he decided, it would just look as if they were having a chat on the couch. If Anakin grew suspicious, they could always lie.

Obi-Wan rubbed at his mouth thoughtfully. "I agree, but we have no idea where they're being kept, or if they are even in a state fit to travel."

"Are you honestly suggesting we leave them behind?" Padmé asked, with a protective, parental rage.

"No. But do you have any reason to suspect Anakin would hurt them?"

Padmé blinked furiously, looking away. "I don't know what he's capable of anymore."

Obi-Wan knew the feeling too well. He was a testament to what Anakin was capable of now, after all.

"We're still planning, Padmé. Nothing is certain. We may yet learn their whereabouts."

His words had their intended effect. She took a steadying breath, offering him a tight smile. "You're right, of course." she shut her eyes and took another breath before opening them again with clear determination. "We'll also need to get your lightsaber back, then."

Obi-Wan didn't bother to hide his surprise. "Do you really think Anakin kept it?"

Padmé smirked at him slyly. "I _know_ he did," she said. "I've seen it hanging from his belt when he's come back here. He always takes it off before he goes to see you."

Obi-Wan was impressed. Not many non-Jedi could tell the difference between two lightsabers, least of all one as unadorned as Obi-Wan's. But then again, Padmé Amidala wasn't just _any_ non-Jedi.

**~*~**

Anakin returned the next day.

A heavy thrum in the Force preceded him, a steady ringing deep in Obi-Wan's ears. He was sitting on the couch attempting to read, Padmé away in her own bedroom, and so he was the first to meet Anakin as he entered the apartment.

The younger man gave him a less than surprised look before all but dragging Obi-Wan back to his bedroom, restraining him to the bed with a new, though thankfully _longer_ , energy cuff.

"My wife won't be able to pick that one," Anakin said, though the smile in his voice belied the true menace behind his words. He moved over and sat at the edge of Obi-Wan's bed, the mattress sagging under the added weight and shifting Obi-Wan slightly closer to him.

"How are you feeling, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan didn't look up when he answered, keeping his nose pointedly down in the datapad he had managed to keep with him. Some mundane service manual that he could barely understand. Despite that, he still had to fight to keep his voice level. "I'm fine."

Anakin leaned back, and with a hum plucked the datapad from Obi-Wan's hand. Anakin glanced at it to see what he'd been reading, before placing it out of the way on the bedside table.

"Don't lie to me." Warning sparked behind each word.

Obi-Wan moved back against his pillows, looking across the room at the blank holovision screen. He could see himself reflected in it; he looked old.

"I'm not, I promise you. I'm _fine_."

_Look at me, Master._

Anakin said the words with his voice, but they reverberated through their pairbond so much louder. Obi-Wan couldn't help the light gasp that escaped him as they echoed in his mind. His eyes flickered up of their own accord, and he saw how Anakin leaned toward him with a strangely serene smile.

"Good." _Good._

Obi-Wan rubbed a knuckle against his temple. "Stop that."

Anakin continued to smile. "No." _No._

Obi-Wan attempted to pull his mental shields up around him, but it was like closing curtains against a typhoon. Anakin easily pulled them aside.

"Don't you like it, Master?" _Don't you like it, Master?_

"Being this close to the Force again?" _Being this close to the Force again?_

"I said _stop!_ " Obi-Wan roared, and pushed Anakin away from him with as much strength as he could muster. Shock and anger passed across his former apprentice's features, and Anakin only barely caught himself from tumbling completely onto the floor.

"Don't push me again," Anakin growled, thankfully with just his physical voice this time.

"Then don't abuse our bond in such a fashion," Obi-Wan hissed back, pent-up rage beginning to seethe towards the surface again. "Hells, Anakin, why must you always be so juvenile?"

A cruel frown stretched across Anakin's face as he lifted himself back up to his original position on the bed.

"Funny how the Jedi have been gone all of a month, and already you abandon their teachings. So much for 'there is no emotion', huh?"

Obi-Wan glared, but felt the fight already starting to drain out of him. Loathe though he was to admit it, Anakin was right, in a sense. Even if his link to the Force _was_ unreliable, that didn't mean Obi-Wan couldn't _control_ himself. He willed himself not to push Anakin away again, and carefully began to let his anger go through his fragile connection to the Force.

Anakin sensed it, and his face twisted in a rictus of fury.

"I didn't say you could meditate," he snapped. "Stop, right now."

Regretfully, Obi-Wan pulled himself free of the trance he had begun to fall into. The small moment had been enough, however; he no longer had the burning desire to cave his former pupil's teeth in.

"Go away." Obi-Wan said coldly, just as Anakin stood.

"I'm trying to help you, Obi-Wan. Clinging to those decrepit teachings does nothing but weaken you."

"And yet, you're the only one still angry, Anakin," Obi-Wan pointed out.

"Anger makes you strong, not... _compliant_."

"I am what I must be to see myself through this."

Anakin scoffed. "Is being near me truly that painful for you, Master?"

"To what you have _become_ ; yes."

"This is who I've always been. You and the other Jedi were simply too blind to see it."

"To our eternal regret."

Anakin frowned. "And what is it that you regret exactly? That you never understood me, or that you trained me in the first place?"

Obi-Wan shrugged, purposefully acting as if it wasn't worth his time to figure out. In reality, it was something he had contemplated more times than he could count. Especially since seeing the security holotapes at the Temple, and learning beyond a doubt that his friend had truly Fallen.

"What do you think?" he asked instead.

Anakin's frustration finally reached a tipping point, and he turned on his heel to stalk out of the room. Just as he palmed open the door, he looked over his shoulder at Obi-Wan. Specks of yellow infected his otherwise clear gaze.

"You will not meditate," he ordered harshly. "I'll be able to tell if you do."

Obi-Wan didn't answer him, and Anakin soon left. He made a point of not letting the door panel slide shut behind him, leaving Obi-Wan no privacy.

Snatching up the datapad he'd been reading again, Obi-Wan began to feverishly scan the words to get his mind off of the sinking weight beginning to take hold of his chest. The symbols began to lose meaning as he read them, but he didn't pause. If he paused, he'd begin to dwell, and if he began to dwell, well...There were many things he regretted in his life; many times he'd felt unbearably, obscenely hopeless, and for good reason. He would _not_ let that happen now. He couldn't.

Obi-Wan sensed his exasperation beginning to build itself up again, until he felt as if he would crack in two from the strain. His hand shook as he dropped the datapad on the floor; most of him wanted to hurl it across the room, but instead he settled onto his side in the bed.

His mind supplied him with a Mandalorian curse Satine had taught him once, a lifetime ago. He was surprised he still recalled it at all, but, of course, it had been her favorite thing to say when she'd been annoyed. And she'd been annoyed rather often in his and Qui-Gon's charge.

Sighing, Obi-Wan turned his face into the soft material of a pillow.

" _Phwoar,_ " he growled, and liked the way it felt to say it.

**~*~**

It was nighttime before Anakin walked in again - as seemed to be the norm here - without Obi-Wan's consent. He flopped down heavily at the foot of Obi-Wan's bed and rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Sorry about what happened earlier," he finally said, peeking up at Obi-Wan. "It's been a long few days, and I missed you two."

"Oh, how horrid for you." Obi-Wan replied, with mock sincerity.

Anakin grunted and pushed himself off of the bed.

"Take or leave my apology, Obi-Wan, but it's time to get up."

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes at him. "Excuse me?"

"For dinner," Anakin clarified and stood up. "You're eating with us tonight, in a faraway land known as The Kitchen."

Obi-Wan shook his head. The single chance he'd had to walk on his own, before he'd been cuffed a second time to his bed, had ended with a less that spectacular fall. He didn't wish to repeat it, least of all in front of Anakin.

"I'm not hungry," he said.

Anakin's eyebrows rose and he placed his hands on his hips.

"Then just come sit with us. Padmé will be glad for the company, and so will I."

That caught him. He wouldn't do it for Anakin, but he owed it to Padmé to at least try.

"Fine," he said, sourly. "Uncuff me."

Anakin grinned and knelt down, waving his hand over Obi-Wan's wrist. The Force pulled slid around and into the metal, working on mechanisms too small for the human eye. The ring itself encircling Obi-Wan's wrist snapped open not a moment later.

Obi-Wan pulled his hand to his chest as soon as Anakin leaned away, sorely wishing he could rub the feeling back into it. "Go on ahead," he said. "I'll be out in a moment."

Anakin crossed his arms, smug. "I can wait."

Rolling his eyes, Obi-Wan steeled himself and threw back the covers. His toes immediately curled against the cold. Next, he carefully brought his legs over to the side of the bed and let his the balls of his feet rest against the plush carpet.

He kept repeating the same mantra in his head as he pushed himself to standing. _Don't fall over, don't fall over, don't fall over._

He took one shaky step, and fell over.

Nerves, he decided. _Bloody_ nerves.

He would have landed directly on his face if Anakin hadn't caught him at the last moment.

"You should have more patience, Master," he teased playfully as he hauled Obi-Wan back up. "Am I going to have to carry you?"

"Certainly not," Obi-Wan grumbled back, and gently nudged at Anakin's shoulder to get him to let go. Anakin did, though it took a few moments longer than necessary.

Obi-Wan centered himself and took a step forward again. He didn't fall this time, much to his inner delight. "You of all people should know how difficult it is to keep one's balance after you've just lost an arm."

Anakin eyed Obi-Wan's missing appendage with a neutral expression.

"We could get you a new one, just like mine," he said.

"I don't want another one."

Anakin shrugged. "That's too bad. It might help you keep your footing a little better.

"As would the Force," muttered Obi-Wan

Anakin hummed in agreement, keeping surprisingly quiet as Obi-Wan took another careful step. The silence didn't last.

"At this rate, we'll be just in time for breakfast tomorrow," Anakin said impatiently.

Obi-Wan took another step. He never thought he'd be so proud to not need a wall to keep him upright. "No one said you had to wait up."

"You're just going to fall again."

"I can assure you that I won't."

He felt annoyance grow into anger along their link, then into a strange type of amusement. If Obi-Wan had to put a description to it, he would have called it impish.

 _Sith_ -fucking- _hells._

"And what, may I ask, is so funny?" he demanded harshly.

Anakin hid a smile behind his knuckles. "Nothing. You just keep walking."

Was Anakin _mocking_ him? Obi-Wan knew the Dark Side warped the minds of those who used it, but it didn't erase experiences. Anakin _knew_ how this felt!

Frustrated, Obi-Wan increased the speed of his steps. If for nothing more than the illusion of getting himself as far away from Anakin as he possibly could. So he didn't sense the tiny thread of the Force next to his ankle until it was too late.

Obi-Wan fell forward, and this time nothing caught him. He hit the floor and ended up with a mouthful of carpet.

Above him, Anakin laughed.

"I told you that you'd fall again, Master!" he said between snickers, and knelt down to pull Obi-Wan back up. The older man batted his hand away angrily.

"That was not funny, Anakin."

Anakin's face drooped in a disappointment. "I did it all the time as a kid in the Temple. You didn't mind then."

"You were a youngling then, and I most certainly _did_ mind." Obi-Wan shook his head. He wasn't about to let Anakin manipulate him with old memories again. He was no longer a child; Obi-Wan was no longer his Master; and the Jedi Order was no longer a home for _either_ of them.

**~*~**

Obi-Wan trailed behind Anakin with one hand to the wall as they walked into the kitchen, where Padmé was busy pulling things out of drawers and shelves. She was trying to remain as busy as possible, and acted like she hadn't even noticed them come in.

She strained to reach something on a high shelf, but her tiny hand didn't even come close to reaching it.

With an affectionate smile, Anakin stepped over to grab it for her.

"Here, I've got it," he said.

Padmé took it silently.

Anakin smiled at her, and something in her expression snapped.

"You seem in a good mood. Is the death of democracy going that well?" Padmé asked, deadpan, tilting her face up towards his.

Anakin took the question at face value. He leaned against the counter next to her, laughing softly.

"It goes apace," he answered. "Though I'd much rather be at home with my wife." He moved in as if to embrace her, but Padmé moved out of reach of his encircling arms and stomped over to the table. She slammed the bowl she'd been holding down hard enough to make the pleekwood jolt, and didn't acknowledge Anakin.

Obi-Wan wondered just how many people could get away with that now and live.

Anakin pursed his lips at Padmé's back as she sat down across from Obi-Wan. "You shouldn't be like that in front of a guest."

"Guests are free to leave. Prisoners are not," Padmé answered calmly, before spearing a leafy green on the end of her fork like it had personally offended her. Her eyes stayed intently upon it.

Anakin sighed and pushed himself away from the counter. He stepped up behind Padmé, and Obi-Wan noticed the way she stiffened at his approach.

"Can we discuss this later, please?" Anakin asked in a worn-out tone, as if this was something that they'd argued about before. "Let's just enjoy dinner, okay--" He placed his hands on Padmé's thin shoulders, and the Senator jerked away like she had just been electrocuted.

"Don't touch me, Anakin." Her voice was sharp yet quiet, like a lake of ice, brooking no argument.

Anakin actually flinched back, hovering his hands over her shoulders before pulling them away. Obi-Wan was the only one able to see the sulfuric red flash in his former apprentice's eyes.

"Maybe you should eat in the bedroom," Anakin said.

A terribly sad look crossed Padmé's face, but it was quickly replaced by a blank politician's mask. Without warning, she scraped back her chair, causing Anakin to skip back a few steps, and stood. "Perhaps I should."

After she left the kitchen, with Anakin's eyes trailing after her even after the door panel slid closed, the Sith Lord turned his attention to Obi-Wan. He shrugged awkwardly as he took Padmé's empty seat.

"Sorry you had to see that," he said, scooting his chair in. He planted his elbows firmly on the tabletop as he began to eat, a habit Obi-Wan had tried and failed multiple times to teach out of him over the years.

"Elbows," he muttered out of habit, and froze with his fork halfway to his mouth. He looked up, expecting to see those simmering gold eyes once again...

...but he was only met with a bright, boyish grin, and too blue eyes. He blinked just to make sure it wasn't an illusion.

Anakin did what he always had when Obi-Wan mentioned his table manners. He tapped his elbows once against the wooden surface, then pulled them off. "Yes, Master," he said, still grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Phwoar is a Mandalorian expletive (did Obi-Wan learn it from Satine? Probably. It can also mean expressing sexual interest in someone, in regards to British slang)  
> *Pleekwood is a type of wood in the Star Wars universe.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for getting this fic to 100 kudos, everyone!
> 
> Enjoy~

Obi-Wan imagined that dining with a battalion of Droidekas would have been a less uncomfortable affair, but dinner managed to pass rather uneventfully. Anakin didn't force any conversation, nor did he pester Obi-Wan through the Force. Despite his better judgment, Obi-Wan actually found himself beginning to relax.

It wasn't until the dishes were cleared away, and Obi-Wan had become completely convinced that nothing else would happen, that he felt a hand press lightly on his shoulder.

"We should change those," Anakin said, jutting his chin down at Obi-Wan's missing arm. He began to steer him toward the living room without waiting for a reply. 

Anakin insisted on changing the bandages himself, sitting Obi-Wan down onto the couch in front of him. Annoyed but not in the mood to argue (they did need changing after all, and he'd be hard-pressed to do it himself) Obi-Wan started to tug up his tunic, but it became stuck halfway over his shoulders. He gritted his teeth in frustration and began to squirm fruitlessly, until Anakin made an impatient sound and pulled it the rest of the way off for him.

"At least take me out to dinner first," Obi-Wan muttered sardonically.

Anakin laughed, and moved Obi-Wan over until his back was facing him. "We did just eat," he said, as he carefully peeled away the first layer of gauze from Obi-Wan's back.

"If that's your idea of romantic, I feel even worse for Padmé," replied Obi-Wan, taking the growing spool of bandages from Anakin's hands when the trail curled across his chest. Though they'd wrapped each other's wounds often enough, and seen each other in all manner of undress, Anakin's growing possessiveness was not lost on Obi-Wan.

However, he needn't have worried. Anakin's thoughts seemed focused on a different aspect of their discussion.

"She wasn't always like this," he heard Anakin say behind him, his voice losing all of its teasing liveliness from a moment before. "I knew she'd be angry with me for a while. What I did to her on Mustafar was unforgivable, but I hoped..." he moved his arm around Obi-Wan and took the wad of bandages back, if for nothing more than to keep his hands busy. "I hoped she'd at least be happy I didn't kill you."

Obi-Wan knew Padmé was thankful for his survival, but he also knew exactly why she wasn't grateful to _Anakin_ for it. Anakin didn't really seem to want his actual opinion on the subject, however, so he made a noncommittal noise instead.

To his surprise, he was wrong. Anakin's movements stilled, and Obi-Wan could feel him fidgeting with the bandages in his hands.

"Obi-Wan..." he said, and his voice sounded uncertain. Hesitant. "Do you think she'll ever forgive me?"

Obi-Wan sighed and glanced over his shoulder. "Why are you asking me, Anakin? It isn't like I know her as intimately as you."

He saw Anakin shrug, and his eyes caught Obi-Wan's right before he tilted his head forward again. They were a vivid blue."You two talk a lot, and she seems to trust you." Obi-Wan caught a shard of jealously in the words, but not enough to worry about. _Yet._ "Can't you at least attempt a guess?"

"A guess?" the gauze reached across his chest again, but this time Anakin handed him the tail end of the bandages first while he waited for Obi-Wan's reply.

Obi-Wan wasn't sure if this was meant to be a test of some sort; a twisted game to get him to say the wrong thing. He sent a thin, inquisitive tendril of the Force towards Anakin, but he couldn't sense any deception (nor much of anything at all, for that matter) from him.

Anakin sensed him utterly though, and with a small smile lowered his shields to allow Obi-Wan a peek at his true intentions. "This isn't some trick, Obi-Wan. Well?" he stood and stepped in front of him, arms crossed.

And indeed, there was no deception; just an honest curiosity. Not just about Padmé, Obi-Wan realised, but about _his_ true feelings as well, and below that...

Obi-Wan quickly tugged the connection away, heart pattering in his chest. He had sensed a darkness barely contained just below the surface; pervasive, _terrible_ , yet so purely Anakin that Obi-Wan hadn't noticed it at all until he'd nearly been upon it.

The fact that he hadn't sensed it reminded him too much of Mustafar. Of his own ignorance even before that.

It was far from a pleasant feeling.

"I assume she doesn't appreciate being locked up in here."

"She isn't," Anakin answered immediately. "I wouldn't keep my own wife locked up. She's allowed to go whenever she wishes; _she's_ the one who refuses to leave."

 _'You'_ didn't need to be added to the end of that statement for Obi-Wan to know that was exactly what Anakin meant. It wasn't as much of a shock to him as it should have been. A well-respected Senator could only be gone for so long before she was missed, especially in tumultuous times like this. It was only natural that she should be able to leave at any time; _he_ was the one that couldn't.

"And the babies?" he said, pulling off the last of the bandages around his chest so that all that remained were those tightly wound around his arm. "She's worried about them.

A strange look passed across Anakin's face, and he stooped down to grab the bandages again. The look was gone as soon as he'd straightened back up.

"They're safe, if you must know," he said.

"Then why keep her away from them? It isn't right, Anakin."

Annoyance narrowed Anakin's eyes. "It isn't any of your concern what I do with _my_ family," he snapped. "I knew I shouldn't have asked you. Lift up your arm."

There was a dangerous lilt to the words through the Force, and a tremor of trepidation passed through Obi-Wan. He frowned, and lifted up his arm.

Anakin's temper cooled, as sudden and unpredictable as a sun flare. "Relax, Master," he said as he knelt down to gingerly finish unwrapping what remained of Obi-Wan's arm. "I just want to make sure it doesn't hurt."

It wasn't his arm that Obi-Wan worried would hurt him anymore (he was quickly becoming used to the constant ache it gave him, the phantom pains and the sensitive skin), but he kept himself rigid anyway as the dressings were carefully removed. The air felt cold against the abnormally warm skin, and Anakin let out a little breath of relief once they were piled on the low table beside him.

"It doesn't look infected, at least," he said, and moved it up to take a better look. Obi-Wan let out a sharp hiss when Anakin's fingers pressed against the tender flesh.

"Hurts?"

Obi-Wan nodded sharply. _"Very."_

Anakin made a small noise in the back of his throat and let the appendage go.

"Hold on, we should have something to help with that. Wait right there."

Anakin stepped out, and Obi-Wan could hear him rifling through drawers the next room over, slamming them shut as he muttered to himself.

Obi-Wan leaned back into the cushions of the couch, taking full advantage of the moment alone to collect himself. He wasn't certain why he reacted to Anakin the way he did. Why his body trembled with terror even when his mind was at ease. The dichotomy didn't bode well. If he could barely hold himself together, how could he possibly expect to escape? To even attempt to fix everything that had gone wrong?

Thoughts of his perilous future guided Obi-Wan down into a dangerous place within himself. One of doubt and static; that whispered to him that it didn't matter anymore. The Order was gone, survivors were being hunted down each day while he sat here unable to do a thing. Even if he did escape, where could he possibly go? What could he possibly do? _Nothing,_ that traitorous little voice in the back of his mind told him. _Nothing. Not a thing at all. You're one of the broken things now, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Just accept it._

Yet even with his own mind telling him do so, he knew he couldn't. Obi-Wan focused on what was immediately before him. He may want to give up for himself, may even do so eventually, but not until he'd done all he could for others. Padmé was ensnared far worse than he could ever be, even if her chains weren't physical. She needed him, and Anakin needed him. Even if Anakin didn't wish it; even if Obi-Wan destroyed himself completely to do it, he would show Anakin that this path he now found himself on wasn't the one he was meant for.

He owed it to him.

To Qui.

_To everyone._

His intense reverie (hadn't he meant to _calm_ himself?) was cut short when Anakin stepped back into the room, a hypospray and fresh dressings in his hands.

"You shouldn't worry so much, Obi-Wan," he said pleasantly, pressing the hypospray into his shoulder, then sticking a large bacta patch across the angry red gash where Obi-Wan's elbow should have been.

"I do believe I don't worry enough," Obi-Wan answered.

**~*~**

Dismal thoughts continued to follow Obi-Wan through most of the evening. Once his arm had been re-wrapped, they even followed him into his room. Some time later, so did Anakin.

Obi-Wan hadn't seen Padmé since her quarrel with Anakin , but he could hear her moving around in the kitchen. He silently wondered if she'd kicked Anakin out of their bedroom.

He didn't protest when Anakin locked the energy cuff around his wrist again. Obi-Wan hoped that meant he was getting ready to leave, but he simply stood there. It made the hair on the back of Obi-Wan's neck stand on end.

"Yes?" he finally asked.

The bed dipped as Anakin sat next to his shoulder, his gaze insistent and unwavering.

"I could take the cuff off, if you want," Anakin told him. "For good."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. There was always a price with the Sith. "If I do what, exactly?" he rumbled.

Anakin smiled at how quickly he caught on. "If you lower your shields, Obi-Wan. Let me see what you're thinking."

A feeling like ice on his skin trailed down his spine, and Obi-Wan subconsciously shifted away from Anakin, mental shields reinforcing themselves in his mind.

"You've already proven that you can intrude upon my mind if you wish," Obi-Wan answered back stiffly.

"But that's just it," Anakin said, moving a little bit closer. "I don't _want_ to intrude. I want you to trust me again." He moved his hand up to Obi-Wan's face, knuckles ghosting over his cheek.

And something snapped in Obi-Wan at that moment. Something small, but vastly important. The soft touch, the friendly words, the promise of how things could still be... they hurt more than anything Anakin had done yet, and they infuriated Obi-Wan. He rounded on Anakin with grim intention.

"What I truly want is for you to realise that _this--_ " Obi-Wan gestured vaguely with his manacled hand. "--is nothing more than playing house. It doesn't mean a thing. I cannot trust you so easily again, Anakin, and the fact you seem to think I could after one bloody meal and cleaning a wound that _you_ inflicted shows just how much you still have to learn."

Anakin pulled back his hand, more than a little surprised at the words.

"What's gotten into you?" he demanded.

" _You_ have," Obi-Wan muttered, hunching himself over. "You are a fool, Anakin."

Surprise swiftly turned to sharp anger, though on the surface Anakin looked remarkably calm. He smirked reproachfully at Obi-Wan.

"I'm the fool? That's the Wookie calling the Bantha furry." He rose his eyebrows up teasingly, before settling them back down in a serious line."You're the one that couldn't kill me."

The words were simple, yet full of deeper meaning. Anakin delivered them lightly, murmuring them like a sacred orison. As had happened before, they banked his anger... and ignited Obi-Wan's.

A small, rational part of Obi-Wan's mind argued that he should stop; he'd said his piece and now needed to regroup. Hash this out at a better time, with better advantages. It was the calm voice of the Negotiator, collected and certain. Nothing like how he was now, teetering on the edge of an abyss that he couldn't even see.

Needless to say, he didn't heed it.

"Why was taking me back to Coruscant necessary, then? I didn't kill you, but you could have more than easily left me there for daring to try. Why didn't you? For some perverse form of torture? To prove a point?"

"No. It was because I know it wasn't your idea to try to kill me," Anakin said. "I've already explained this! You were just as manipulated as I was by the warped views of the Jedi, and it was cruel of them to attempt to turn my closest friend against me."

Obi-Wan let out a humorless laugh. "It wasn't because you wanted to apologise, then. It was your incessant need to have someone nearby that cares about you."

"Essentially," Anakin answered, eyes glittering. "So you finally admit that you care about me?"

Obi-Wan straightened up, giving Anakin a withering glare, "Yes, I _do_ care about you. More than you seem to care about yourself. But that doesn't make this... _attachment_ I have any less of a weakness."

If he was hurt by Obi-Wan's words, Anakin didn't show it. He let out a put-upon sigh instead.

"Everything I've done has been necessary, to ensure that the galaxy is a safe place," Anakin explained, and Obi-Wan knew he somehow truly believed it.

"What about the younglings?" Obi-Wan demanded suddenly." Was murdering them necessary as well?"

A mechanical reply. "They were Jedi."

"They were _babies,_ Anakin. Hardly older than your own!"

Uncertainty flickered across his features, for the briefest of moments, but Anakin's rage surged over it at the mention of his children. "Be quiet," he snarled.

"They weren't Jedi. They weren't even Padawans yet. Yet you killed them, I _saw_ it," Obi-Wan continued, accusingly. "And you expect me to trust you? Did _they_ trust you as well?"

"Be _quiet,_ Obi-Wan. Do not test me." Anakin stood, towering over him.

Obi-Wan pushed his chances to their limits. "Even your own _wife_ despises you." _  
_

"I said _be quiet!"_ Anakin's eyes flared a savage gold, and he used the Force to grab Obi-Wan's throat and slam him back against the head board. Again and again and again.

"Why don't you just kill me?!" Obi-Wan screamed, stars pulsing in his vision.

"Because that would be too easy, _Master._ " The title slid from Anakin's lips like an insult, and he grinned down maniacally at him as he continued to press forward with the Force. "I'll take the Force from you," _-slam!-_ "I'll take your other arm and your legs" _-slam!-_ "I'll break every kriffing bone in your kriffing body, until you have no _choice_ but to need me." _-slam! slam!-_ Anakin stilled, pulling Obi-Wan's head up by his hair with his mechanical hand. His eyes were fire and molten stone; twin mirrors of Mustafar. Obi-Wan couldn't look away from them. There was nothing of the man he'd once known in that look. No mercy, no desperation for forgiveness. Just pure, mad possessiveness.

Anakin cocked his head to the side. "I'll take everything you have, Obi-Wan," he said in silken tone. "Until all you have left is me."

He let Obi-Wan's head flop back down to the cream sheets, and splayed his fingers out before him. Starting with his pinkie, he began to curl in his fingers, and the pressure in Obi-Wan's throat began to build with each small movement.

Anakin leaned in close to his ear, whispering.

"Shall we begin now?"

_"Ani!"_

The phantom fingers around Obi-Wan's throat loosened slightly at Padmé's cry, and Anakin turned from the supine form of his old Master to find his wife standing in the door way. Despite the urgency in her cry, her face was smiling, relaxed, _inviting._ She beckoned with one hand, dark eyes hopeful.

Anakin's grip loosened even more as he left the bed and moved toward Padmé, and Obi-Wan gulped down deep breaths as fast as he could.

"Come to bed," she said imploringly, grabbing his hands. "Please. I want you there with me, Ani."

Her nightgown was shimmersilk fabric, nearly translucent, and open at the top to bare her collarbone. She looked a vision, and to Obi-Wan's building horror he realised that was because she _wished_ to be.

"NO!" Obi-Wan yelled, thrashing around wildly. The pressure to his throat returned quick enough. Yet, foolishly, so bloody foolishly, he continued. He would not have... have Padmé _bargain_ herself to save him! "Don't...Padmé, you don't have to do this!"

Even after such an ordeal, even after all this time spent away from politics, Padmé was still as much a diplomat as she'd always been. Her face was completely unreadable, but her words were soothing. "Ani. I do want you," she said, moving even closer and wrapping her arms around the taller man, white silk against black tabard, dark against light, two of the strongest people Obi-Wan had ever known wrapping themselves around each other. He barely caught Padmé's whisper against Anakin's chest.

"Just please come to bed, and let him be."

Padmé went through the doorway first, not turning to face Obi-Wan. But Anakin did, his eyes angry and relieved all at once. "You can't turn her against me." he said, and was gone.

Hot tears of frustration rolled down Obi-Wan's cheeks, collecting in his beard.

Padmé had just sacrificed herself for him, distracting Anakin from hurting-- perhaps even killing--him. It left a sour, guilty taste in his mouth. She'd been adamant about Anakin no longer touching her with those hands so stained with innocent's blood, yet she did this... for him?

He was a wretch. A broken thing. He did not deserve the kindness.

_He'd failed. He'd failed, he'd failed, he'd failed._

Taking a shaking breath, he closed his eyes and attempted to meditate. Even with his connection to the Force mired and choked and his head pulsating with pain, he could at least attempt to put decades of practice to use. He focused on his breathing, a novice technique to be sure, but one that always worked for him. _In, out, in..._

That was when he heard the first grunt.

His eyes snapped open, and he forced himself to look to his right. The grey wall, covered with a mirror, was all that separated him from the other bedroom. From...

Another grunt, followed by the creaking sound of a bed moving under weight.

He couldn't stand it. He wrapped the wire of his cuff around his hand and pulled. Tugged and yanked until his fingers grew purple with the effort and blood began to squeeze through his palm. But the chain would not break. The cuff burned him with electrical pulses, yet he hardly felt them.

If he yelled, that would do nothing. If he pushed against Anakin's mind, would that do any good? Doubtful. He fell back onto his bed, covering his head with his pillow to block out the moans and groans in the next room over.

He could feel Anakin's joy through their bond, how easily he believed that Padmé had forgiven him. He could feel Anakin's anticipation, his hope, that Obi-Wan would soon follow; welcome his friendship again with open arms, body and mind, and then... the rest was swallowed by carnal pleasure, so fierce that Obi-Wan almost wished to be cut off from the Force completely.

The night dragged on.

**~*~**

Padmé came to him early the next morning, the key to his cuff in her hand.

"How's your head?" she asked as she unlocked it. Her eyes moved down worriedly to the marks on his palm.

Truth be told, it ached. Horribly. He'd not allowed himself to sleep, and dark circles clung like shadows beneath his eyes.

"It's been better."

"I'll get you something for it." She began to stand, but Obi-Wan grasped her wrist lightly with the tips of his fingers.

He gave her blank look. "Why'd you do it?"

She looked down at him, her eyes not telling him a thing.

"Why?" he repeated. "I didn't ask you to. You shouldn't have--""

"Because you aren't safe with Anakin alone, Obi-Wan," she interrupted, leaning away from him. "Especially when he's angry."

"And you are?" Obi-Wan demanded, anger and fear taking over his words.

"He is my husband," Padmé answered woodenly.

"And he was _my_ Padawan, for many more years than you two have been married. I believe I have a better inkling of him than you." He regretted the words immediately, and let go of her wrist in shame. "I... I apologize. I shouldn't have said such a thing."

"...It's okay, " Padmé replied, with a sad smile. "You aren't wrong."

"Padmé-"

"Obi-Wan," she interrupted suddenly, cradling his hand. "I will be leaving today, and I'm not coming back."

Obi-Wan's eyebrows shot into his hairline, and he tugged his hand away in shock.

"What do you mean?" he demanded. "Padmé? What do you mean by that?"

Padmé gave him an enigmatic look. "Exactly what I've just said." Her eyes lowered, "I've known for a while now what I need to do, but I only just came to the decision last night. I..." Her words caught in her throat and for the first time for as long as Obi-Wan had known her, Padmé the masterful orator, stuttered. "I-I need you to trust me, Obi-Wan. You will not be abandoned here. I will not allow that to happen."

Obi-Wan gently coaxed the words out of her. "Padmé, say what you need to."

She lifted her gaze to his, and her dark eyes were bright.

"I did what I had to last night, because _I'm_ the reason you're here. If I hadn't gone to Mustafar alone, you would not have followed me, and Anakin wouldn't have done what he has to you; _hurt you_ like he has."

Obi-Wan nodded in understanding, placing his hand back into hers. "It is not your fault," he told her, soothingly. "I don't blame you for what has happened."

"But _I_ do," Padmé answered, the guilt in her words so deep that Obi-Wan could feel it bleeding through into his connection with the Force. Horrendous, heavy remorse. "I want to fix it so badly, Obi-Wan, but I can't do that from here. I-"

"-need to leave," Obi-Wan sighed. "I understand. I assume you have some sort of chance coming?"

She nodded mutely.

Obi-Wan looked down at his blanket, contemplating what he could possibly say next.

"I trust you, Padmé," he finally responded. "Do not stay here on my account."

"You aren't the only reason."

_The babies._

"You asked me to trust you, now I must ask the same."

"All right?" she said, eyes narrowing slightly.

"I truly believe that Anakin will not hurt your children. He's spoken of them to me, and he loves them with a fierceness even the Dark Side cannot corrupt." Obi-Wan looked at her. "He will not hurt them if you leave."

"But what kind of mother would that make me?" Padmé hissed, pulling away from him and folding her arms around herself. "A mother that abandons her children is no mother at all."

"You aren't abandoning them. They are in caring hands that aren't Anakin's. What you are doing is protecting yourself so that you have the ability to protect them."

"And what about you?"

Obi-Wan smiled. "Despite how things may appear, I don't usually go out of my way to anger others. I promise you I will tread carefully."

She sighed and loosened her hold around herself. "And here I was, coming in here to comfort you."

"I am the last person that needs it right now, but do not think this means I approve of what transpired last night. Do not do that again."

Padmé rose an eyebrow at him, and smiled. "Which part? Sleep with my husband, or seduce him into bed to keep him from strangling you?"

Obi-Wan coughed. "Sleep with him as much as you like, as long as you truly desire it. Though try to be mindful of others nearby, won't you?"

Padmé grinned ruefully, before pulling him into a hug.

**~*~**

Later that morning, Obi-Wan found himself in the living room. He'd wandered in there once Padmé had finished speaking to him, and hadn't felt the urge to move since. A large bacta patch was across his palm; he supposed he'd soon be covered head to toe in them if he wasn't careful.

His thoughts kept moving back to the same place. He worried about the repercussions of Padmé leaving, and how exactly she meant to go about it. Who would help her? Where would she go? What if Anakin found out?

The questions jogging through his mind stilled for a time when Anakin sped into the room, an agitated expression on his face.

He gestured to Padmé to hurry her along as she came up behind him, an unruffled expression on her face. "We should have left already."

Obi-Wan eyes moved between them both. "Where are you two going?" he asked, innocently.

"The Senate," Anakin said, with obvious distaste. "She's been gone too long. People are beginning to wonder."

"If I'm dead." Padmé finished blandly. She turned to face Obi-Wan, and he saw how much she had changed in the span of a few hours. Her hair was once again done, elaborately pinned up at the base of her neck in thick curls. Her dress of heavy, dark material bedecked with designs and intricately laced hems fit her perfectly, accentuating her regal bearing.

In what amounted to the blink of an eye, she'd transformed back into an impeccable Senator.

But the Senate? How in the Hells did Padmé plan to leave from _there?_ Obi-Wan stood. "Wait."

Anakin didn't answer him a second time, and waved towards the door. It seemed he was still angry from the night before. "We'll be back later."

Padmé paused to look over her shoulder, giving Obi-Wan a significant look before the door slid shut behind her.

Once they were gone, the apartment grew oppressively quiet, and Obi-Wan had to swallow down the worry building up in his throat. He had a bad feeling about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The talented profdrlachfinger made a wonderful piece of [fanart](https://profdrlachfinger.tumblr.com/post/136628122290/anakin-skywalker-obi-wan-kenobi-obikin-i-never) for this chapter. Please bask in it for at least three hours a day.  
> *Bacta patches are basically bandaids, in case trying to figure out what those look like was bothering you. Like it did me!  
> *Banthas are big woolly herd animals; Wookies are big woolly people. I think the comparison stands  
> *Droidekas are spinning ball droid bastards with force fields. I have a deep-seated hatred of those things. If you ever played the original Star Wars Battlefront you'll understand exactly why.  
> *The next chapter is gonna be super Padmé focused, and this makes me very happy. Also, we finally get to poke at that 'various characters' tag up there, which makes me very, very happy. Finally, people that aren't walking, talking guilt balloons that can occasionally use space magic. Refreshing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BABE ORGANA. B A B E O R G A N A. HIS SERENE HIGHNESS, PRINCE BABE PRESTOR ORGANA, FIRST CHAIRMAN AND VICEROY OF ALDERAAN!
> 
> I really like Bail. Fun fact: did you know that Bail grew up with three sisters, and that his mother was the elected Queen of Alderaan? I just love that. Eat that, people who say there are no powerful women in Star Wars.
> 
> GOD and Palps is here in this one, too! Ah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your continued patience as I get this posted is eternally and greatly, everybody!
> 
> Enjoy~
> 
> PS: Guess who got the imbeded art to work again on here? That's right. Moi.

The first sky Padmé had felt for weeks upon her skin was a brilliant fuchsia dawn, heavy with early morning condensation that gathered in her hair like pearls. She took a moment to pause and simply breathe in the fresh air, or as fresh as air on a planet like Coruscant can be.

The tang of thruster exhaust was the first to seize her senses, and she was reminded of the first time she had found herself on this planet. As a Queen, forced to flee her homeworld, with two Jedi and a golden-haired child that called her an angel.

At the time, she'd firmly sworn to herself that she'd never return again. Coruscant was inorganic and insouciance. And she'd never known a place so loud.

It could be beautiful, of course, as all mighty things can. At night, the infinite number of spires and towers and spacescrapers lit up like monolithic candles, and she could almost mistake the never-ending sky traffic for the sparkling rivers of home.

But it was nothing compared to the slender, clear waterfalls and verdant grasslands of quiet Naboo. Nothing at all.

Padmé had promised herself that this wasn't the place for her, yet she'd returned. And she'd stayed. One of the most significant reasons why, she suddenly noticed, was watching her with a warm smile.

She gave him a glacial look in return and stepped into the transport, ignoring the hand he offered to help her up.

The vehicle itself was a large sky car, with a wide, windowless cab. Anakin came in beside her, and gestured with one hand for the droid pilot to take off. A small plate of black glass slid down after that, separating them from the front.

Padmé remembered being brought to this place before in something similar, when she'd only barely recovered from her surgery. Anakin hadn't thought her own apartments safe then. Too exposed, too known...He had wanted to keep her safe, but _'locked away'_ had been what she'd heard.

This ride went much the same as the last had: in complete silence.

**~*~**

After they landed, Padmé slid her arm into the crook of Anakin's elbow as they walked between the broad pillars of the Rotunda foyer. It was a calculated and careful move. She knew Anakin would have done it himself anyway if given enough time, but now it was on her terms. She looked up to find him beaming down at her.

"I knew you couldn't stay angry," he said, brightly.

Thankfully, Padmé was spared having to reply as they entered into the first of a series of crowded corridors.

"Senator Amidala!"

A mild-mannered, familiar voice stopped them mid-stride, much to Anakin's obvious consternation.

Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan was an easy man to spot, towering as he did above so many others. Padmé saw him walk up behind a trio of Sullustan representatives. He moved around the flap-jowled individuals with a quiet apology, and waved a hand at her as if his voice hadn't been enough to catch her attention. The man could sometimes forget his own presence, but that humble quality had been one of the first things Padmé had liked about him.

"That was very rude, Senator," Anakin said, with barely contained malice at Bail's approach.

Bail sobered immediately at the words, coal-dark eyes moving warily to Anakin. He paused a cautious distance away, not quite blocking their path, and bowed.

"My sincerest apologies, Lord Vader," he directed at Anakin. It was a strange title; one Padmé hadn't heard before, yet it filled her with a terrible dread. "If I'm interrupting anything--"

"You're not," Padmé responded quickly. She smiled kindly at her fellow Senator, and placed a hand on Anakin's arm. "I haven't spoken with you in weeks. I've no doubt missed more than I care to think about."

Bail smiled back, but a hint of unease kept his features unusually taut. "There's much that you've missed concerning the Delegation," he agreed. " If Lord Vader allows it, I'd like to discuss some pertinent matters now?"

Padmé pressed down on the weight encircling her arm, her calm demeanor not abandoning her when Anakin's grip tensed possessively.

"Lord Vader," she said, looking up at her husband as the unfamiliar title slipped out. "We have more than enough time for me to speak with him."

Anakin's lips tightened and his eyebrows drew down, but even he had to keep face in as public a place as the Galactic Senate. He let her go, and crossed his arms indignantly.

"Go ahead."

Bail stepped up to her, and Padmé quickly gripped his large hand between her own. "Bail," she said, in obvious relief. "It's so good to see you."

He smiled down at her. "And you as well, Padmé. We were starting to worry that you may never return. Are you well?"

"I'm as good as circumstances allow, my friend. But how are you? How is everyone?" Padmé asked, moving slightly further from Anakin. "Mon, Bel Iblis? Senator Zar?"

"I'm quite well. You're the one everyone has been worried about, since your disappearance. Mon and Garm have been at each other's throats since we lost contact with you." The Senator paused before he spoke again, eyes snapping toward Anakin for a moment. "Fang, I'm afraid, is gone."

Padmé's eyebrows furrowed. "How?" she asked.

Bail coughed into his fist, and Padmé saw the way it shook.

"Bail?" she asked again.

"He was a traitor to the Empire," Anakin answered instead, coming forward. "He was ordered to remain on Coruscant, but instead fled to... Alderaan, isn't that right, Senator Organa?"

The Senator gave him a blank look, nodding his head once. "You are most correct, Lord Vader."

Anakin continued, becoming somewhat gleeful with his explanation. "Senator Organa had no idea that he was harboring a fugitive on the run, which was lucky for him. He'd have been considered an enemy of the Empire, too, if he had." Anakin cocked his head at the Senator, waiting for a response.

Bail clasped his hands behind his back, and nodded. "I thank the stars each day for the tender mercies of the Emperor, and yourself."

Bail's passiveness only seemed to anger Anakin more. "Zar was able to obtain passage off-planet from smugglers," he said, gesturing vaguely in Bail's direction. "Traitors are always bound to have contacts in the seediest of places, but I still managed to apprehend him."

"He's alive then?" Padmé asked, looking from one man to the other.

Senator Organa gave her a wan look, while Anakin looked about ready to laugh.

[ **'Anakin Being A Little Shit and Padme Doesn't Put Up With It Ft. Awkward Co-Conspirator Bail' by quadrupedum** ](https://quadrupedum.tumblr.com/)

"What I should have said was, I apprehended his corpse from Kashyyyk," Anakin replied, and sneered at Organa. "That is what my _tender mercies_ afford to traitors of the Empire, Senator Organa. Remember that."

Padmé felt a hand press into the small of her back. "I think you're done discussing things now. It's time for us to go," Anakin said.

Bail seemed about to say something before thinking better on it, and instead bowed once again. First to Anakin, and then to Padmé.

 _No, not yet._ Leaning up on her toes, Padmé placed a sudden, chaste kiss on Bail's cheek. She knew Anakin's gaze would be focused on that one small move, and not on the hand that surreptitiously pressed a small slip of paper into the front pocket of the Senator's attire.

And she was right. She felt the fingers on her back curl into the material of her gown as she leaned away, but Anakin didn't notice the true exchange.

Padmé stared into Bail's eyes as she moved away, trying to convey everything she needed to without the benefit of words.

"Be sure to tell everyone hello for me, Senator Organa," she said.

Bail gave one small incline of his chin in understanding, carefully placing his palm across his pocket in what would seem to any onlookers as a sign of respect.

"I'll be sure to pass the message along, Senator Amidala."

**~*~**

"You didn't need to do that, Anakin," Padmé murmured, as she was led towards one of the many entrances to the Grand Convocation Chamber, her arm wrapped around his elbow once again.

"It was necessary," Anakin all but snarled. "If he goes against what Palpatine has planned, I'll have to kill him, too."

"One shouldn't lead by fear."

A fond smile curved Anakin's lips. "Eventually, I won't need to... But until such a time, I don't want you talking to him anymore, Padmé, or any of the others from that group of yours."

The corridors were all but empty now, save for few blue-clad guards, as Senators and delegates made their ways into the central chamber proper. The vacancy turned Padmé daring. "I will talk with whomever I please."

"Why did I know you'd say that?" Another slow, fond smile, before it fell into a frown. "They're dangerous. They've proven as traitorous as the Jedi."

"They have yet to betray me." Finally, they'd reached the way to her old repulsorpod: a low, personal archway set into the wall. Padmé pulled her arm out from his, but Anakin stopped them before they could enter. With his now free hand, he lifted her chin up to look at him.

"You're to go before the Senate," he said, searching her features for any sign of argument. "And ally yourself with the Empire."

She tugged her chin forcefully out of his intimate hold, and kept her voice maddeningly even as she answered. "I expected as much. Is that all?"

Anakin looked mildly astonished, and he slowly moved himself forward until Padmé's back was pressed into the cool curve of the wall. He leaned down, bracketing her head with his hands.

"Don't try anything," he told her. "Palpatine doesn't trust you. Just agree with whatever he says, and we can go home, okay?"

She kept her chin high as she spoke to him. The warning in his voice didn't scare her.

"Or what? Will you kill me like Senator Zar?"

A flicker of annoyance pinched Anakin's eyebrows together. "Stop it. You know I could never do that, but I can't protect you here." His gaze softened. "Please?"

Without a word, Padmé laid her palms flat against his chest, felt it rise and fall as he breathed, with his heart thumping deep within. It was all so achingly familiar. He still felt like Anakin, tensed expectantly at her touch like Anakin, still sounded like Anakin... but he _wasn't_ Anakin.

She pushed lightly, and he obediently moved out of her way.

"I don't need you to protect me, Anakin," she said flatly, and walked through the small opening in the wall into the rotund central chamber of the Galactic Senate. Inside, the sound of thousands of voices speaking at once echoed all around them in a constant, indiscernible buzz.

Anakin sighed, following after her with hands held up in reluctant capitulation.

"I know you don't need me to," he said, and he moved past her to input commands into the instrument panel of the repulsorpod. It lifted off from its berth, floating steadily into the large room. "But I want to. That's what two people that love each other do."

Padmé frowned, straightening the wide sleeves of her formal dress. The room began to settle slightly as those that knew her (or had heard of the infamous young Senator of Naboo in passing rumor) recognized her for who she was, but it wasn't until the central podium rose from the floor that true silence descended.

Palpatine's fanciful Chancellor's robes made him like a bloodstain amid the grey and black of the room. Even with his cowl pulled over his head, Padmé somehow knew he was looking directly at her. She tried not to shiver at the sensation. It was difficult to comprehend that she had once placed so much trust in him. A man whom had twisted her own ideals, her own _husband,_ into something terrible. It was difficult to comprehend that it had all been a mask. How had she been so blind as to not see it before?

The Chancellor's -- or to use the title he fancied now: _Emperor_ \-- small form lifted one hand, swollen and pale against the red of his sleeve, and gestured toward her.

"Rejoice, my fellow Senators, for one of our own has returned to us."

His voice was a rasping lilt, slow and dark. Poisonously pleasant.

"Our beloved Senator Amidala was deceived by those self-same Jedi that left me as you see now," Palpatine continued, voice rising in volume and emotion. "On the eve of the peace we have worked so long to achieve, she was left for dead by a Master of their Order -- the sole survivor of a most horrendous massacre perpetrated by the Jedi. She would have surely perished as well, if it weren't for the vigilant ministrations of Lord Vader!"

Rolling applause. The sound bouncing off of the rounded walls like a jubilant child. It grated on Padmé's ears. It was all a deception; honeyed half-lies with just enough truth in them to sound believable. How could they all cheer like this? She must have scowled, because Anakin murmured quietly at her side: "Just let him finish."

Her scowl only deepened as Palpatine continued.

"I am aware that many of you questioned the decision to revolutionize the Republic into the Empire, but it is thanks to one of its most trusted officers that we now have our dear compatriot here once again." Palpatine rose his chin at her. "Wouldn't you care to express your gratitude, Senator Amidala?"

Her heart sped up as she tried to quell her rising fury. Padmé moved up towards the edge of her repulsorpod slowly, hands extended out before her.

"Respected members of the Senate," she began, and her tenable voice echoed throughout the vast chamber. "Dignitaries, delegates, colleagues, friends. I know you are scared; we all are. But change..."

She could feel Anakin watching her avidly. Knew that at the center podium, Palpatine's sinister gaze wasn't leaving her, either.

She remained resolute. "Change is not what this is."

A few surprised gasps rang out around the Senate Rotunda, followed by the soft susurrus of whispering. Palpatine simply watched her, a slow smile stretching his face.

"Padmé," Anakin warned.

She ignored him. "This is not what any of us wanted when the Clone Wars finally ended. This is not the peace we were promised. This is the _death_ of everything we have worked so hard to achieve." She took a deep breath. "We all sat back and allowed the Jedi Order to be obliterated, and for what? Do any of you truly believe they would have attempted to overthrow the Republic? Senator Taa."

The obese Twi'lek a few pods above her's jerked at suddenly being called out. She looked directly at him.

"The Jedi freed your homeplanet of Ryloth from Separatist forces, did they not? And with minimal damage to your capital city. If they intended to overthrow the Republic, why would they do that? Why would they care?"

Orn Free Taa's lekku quivered noticeably, and he looked first at Palpatine and then around the room, gauging his audience. He didn't answer her.

"None of us would believe the Jedi were traitors . Not without coercion." She turned back to face Palpatine. "You are being kept in line through fear, my fellow Senators, and that is no way to live. But you can all fight against this subversion! Bring back what we can, before everything we stand for is lost. This is not democracy, and it our duty as the Senate to fix it!"

Silence. Heavy silence. A rare thing in a room of thousands.

"Won't you tell us _why_ you were on Mustafar that fateful day, Senator Amidala?"

It was a simple question, softly spoken by Palpatine himself. The way her skin goose-pimpled made it feel like he'd just murmured it in her ear.

"Because..." Padmé hesitated, and hesitation meant death in legislature. Palpatine swooped in like a starved hawk-bat.

"Because the Jedi told you of it. Because they _wanted_ to cause chaos, and what better way than to send a celebrated young Senator into the clutches of the Separatists?"

Padmé straightened up, "I went of my own volition."

"And you've paid for it. Dearly, it seems," answered Palpatine, with mocking sympathy. "But you are right in one regard, Senator Amidala. This is no longer the Republic you recall." Palpatine's eyes glinted like chips of glass beneath his hood. "It is the _Empire_ , one which is strong and able to stand on its own, without the need of the Jedi Order!"

Applause, and Padmé palled. _No._

"They were peacekeepers!" she shouted. "They helped us!"

"Indeed?" Senator Taa drew his girth forward, eagerly latching onto Palpatine's growing popularity like a leech. "The Jedi _wanted_ to bring unrest to Ryloth! They aided Syndulla and his Resistance Movement, and now look where we are! Those self-same insurgents have brought war to Ryloth once more. I daresay the Jedi _enjoyed_ seeing the disorder they wrought!"

"What about Mandalore?" A different voice shouted. "There were Jedi there, right? Why didn't they stop that conflict?"

"I heard they dealt with smugglers--

"And pirates--"

"There was a traitor already. A Besalisk, wasn't it?"

"--heard it was Mirialan. Just a slip of a girl."

"They made an attempt on the Emperor's own life," Mas Amedda added in, the Chagrian's voice reverberating above the others. "Are you saying that this was done in the name of peace?"

Padmé's fists clenched at her sides. This wasn't what was meant to happen. This wasn't what the Senate was meant to be!

"You were supposed to help the Republic, not destroy it," she said, fury heavy in her calm voice. "So, yes. I do."

The room erupted.

Anakin was standing beside her now, urgency in his voice. But not anger, not yet. "Padmé!"

Even through the din, Palpatine's voice was clear. Padmé swore it almost sounded cheerful as he uttered the one word she knew would crumble any final argument she posed.

_"Traitor."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I had to include the entire title of quadrupedum's art piece. It was just too perfect not to. Sorry if it pulls you out of the narrative or anything.
> 
> *I tweaked the timeline a bit concerning Fang Zar. In the actual canon, he doesn't die until about a year after RotS (it's pretty horrid how it happens, too. Vader throws his lightsaber at him!) I moved it back because, well, drama. I'll be doing that in a few other places as well *winks*
> 
> *I'm so happy I got to use tol Senator son. This isn't the last we'll be seeing of Bail, either.
> 
> *Pulpyteen! Pulpyteen from a distance, but still -- PULPYTEEN! (I really enjoy that evil prune.)
> 
> *Orn Free Taa is referring to Cham Syndulla and his Free Ryloth Movement. In canon, while the two did work in tandem for a time during the Clone Wars, once Imperial forces began to take over Ryloth, Cham once again took on the mantle of a resistance leader. This led to in-fighting on the planet even after peace was announced.
> 
> *I hope everyone notices and appreciates the little nods to some of my favourite Clone Wars episodes/arcs.
> 
> *Comments are like carbonite. They keep me going through even the harshest conditions.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Padmé finds her freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy~

Anakin steered their repulsorpod back to its berth before the room had even completely quieted down, and then they're running, fleeing down the convoluted corridors of the Galactic Senate at a breakneck pace.

Anakin had Padmé's wrist in a vice grip, all but dragging her after him as she struggled to keep up with his wide, harried steps.

She attempted to tug herself away, only to have him tighten his hold as they rounded a corner.

"Why did you do that, Padmé?" he demanded, frantic. _"Why did you do that?"_

"Anakin, enough!" Padmé snapped, and Anakin slowed his pace just slightly. "Where are you taking me?"

"Away from here. Force, Padmé, he'll kill you for that!" Anakin's frenetic pace resumed. "We have to leave, get you out of here before--"

They turned another corner, and found a cadre of Senate guards blocking their way.

"Halt!" one shouted, aiming his weapon at them. Padmé knew enough about blasters to know when one was pointed solely at her. "Step away from Senator Amidala, Lord Vader!"

Anakin's fingers clenched around her wrist, the only indication Padmé had before he acted.

"Don't!" she shouted. Too late. With a negligent move of his other wrist, Anakin's lightsaber slapped into his palm. He released Padmé and fell upon the guards, eyes wild and bright as he cut them down; slaughtered them all, with a wicked vermilion blade.

_Like animals._

Padmé couldn't watch that. Even if they were there to kill her, they didn't deserve _this._

She ran headlong into the fray, getting as close as she needed to be able to grab her husband's arm, and attempted pull it down. "Stop it, Anakin!" she said, desperately. "Stop!"

He didn't hear her. In his fury, he was deaf to all else except his own bloodlust. Padmé's tiny frame left the ground as he lifted his arm and threw her off. She hit the permacrete plaster wall with a soft thump.

Padmé landed on the floor, head ringing, beside one of the fallen Senate guards. Their blue robes were singed with plasma burns, and their blaster lay at an awkward angle in limp hands. They didn't move when Padmé leaned over them and tugged at the sheath next to their weapon's holster. She found what she needed, and pulled it into one long sleeve just as the yelling stopped, and a soft voice replaced it.

"Padmé?"

Padmé turned to find Anakin standing amid a sea of bodies, eyes wide. He saw the way her gaze landed on his lightsaber, and hastily clicked it off. "Padmé?" he asked again, urgent.

Padmé couldn't seem to find her voice as she pressed a hand to the wall to stand. Her breath came out in short, quick bursts through her nose. She was afraid.

"I..." Anakin blinked, reason coming back to his features in a sudden burst. He looked around him--at the ground littered with the dead--and then to Padmé. He moved towards her, slowly. She saw the instantaneous regret in his stormy eyes. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

Padmé didn't listen to the rest. She pulled the blaster out of the dead guard's hands, and fired one bolt. She was a good shot, and her mark hit true. The sharp beam of light flew past Anakin's right ear, and straight into the floor-to-ceiling viewport behind him. It shattered the transparisteel on impact, sending slivers of razor glass flying in all directions. Anakin brought up his hand to shield himself with the Force, and before he had brought it back down, Padmé was gone.

**~*~**

She made it as far as the loading room next to the landing berth she'd specified in her note to Bail, racing beneath the half-open, gargantuan blast door, before the familiar heavy stomp of boots reached her ears.

Padmé slowed her steps, then stilled as she turned to find Anakin bearing down on her, anger in his eyes. It was an all-too familiar image, and the memory of pressure around her throat, squeezing the life out of her, dulled her senses; made her _hesitate._

"Padmé!" His voice caused worry to curdle in her gut, and Padmé surreptitiously moved a hand over her sleeve , mouth set in a thin line.

"I'm leaving, Anakin." No preamble. Just plain, simple fact. He'd argue with anything less.

Anakin regarded her in confusion, brows disappearing into the fringes of his curled hair. He took another step forward, and she took one back.

"We were already leaving, Padmé," he said gently. Another step, but Padmé held her ground this time with a rapid glance at the last door she needed to go through. It was sealed, and the time it would take for her to open it was time she didn't have to spare.

"Don't be afraid of Palpatine," Anakin continued. "I won't let him hurt you. I'll _kill_ him if he tries. I need you to trust me--"

"I can't. You're not the man I fell in love with anymore. I don't know _who you are_ anymore." Padmé's eyes stung as the words flooded out of her like a tidal wave. " And it scares me, Anakin. _You_ scare me. How can you think I could ever trust you again?"

Anakin couldn't stop staring at her, his eyes large and afraid. So, so afraid.

"Padmé, I know I... I know I get angry sometimes, but I love you. You know I do." Anakin stepped closer, towering over her now, and rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. Padmé didn't allow them to shake.

"It isn't enough, Ani," she whispered, the fond nickname as dry and fragile as a desert breeze on her tongue. "You don't know how much I wish it was, but it isn't."

Anakin's fingers tightened slightly, before he forced himself to unfurl them. "Then I can change," he said, desperately. "Things can go back to how they used to be."

Padmé pulled herself from his grasp, taking a few steps back.

"Things _can't_ go back, Anakin," she said loudly, her voice bouncing off the walls. "You saw what happened in there. Palpatine _will_ have me executed, whether you want it or not. Even if you were to turn from the Empire right now, it wouldn't do anything. It wouldn't bring back the Jedi, or change what you've done... it wouldn't bring back all the people you've killed." Her voice wavered, ever so slightly. "Things can never go back."

Anakin blinked at her, mouth hanging open as he searched for a way to explain himself. Every reason, every excuse, tasted like ash in his throat.

Padmé shook her head at his silent argument. "I don't love you anymore, Anakin, and I need to leave. Without you."

"And what about our children?" Anakin snapped, suddenly venomous. "Would you abandon them as quickly as you abandon me?!"

Pure agony twisted Padmé's features, but her voice stayed firm.

"I will always love them, with every last part of myself. But what can I do to help them when I'm trapped here?" Her voice cracked as it rose in volume. " _When y_ _ou won't even let me see them!_ "

"You don't think I've wanted to?!" Anakin snarled back. "But Palpatine was right. They aren't safe near you."

The exclamation hung in the taut air between them. Padmé gaped, at a loss for words.

"What?" she murmured. "Why would you say that?"

Anakin began to pace, hands moving anxiously in the air around him. Even without a connection to the Force, Padmé could feel its presence stirring around them, tugging at her skirts, buzzing along her skin like air before a thunderstorm.

"He said you would try to take them from me. Hide them. That you'd _leave_ me." Anakin's face darkened. "He said it would be too dangerous to allow you near them; that the lies you were told are still affecting your judgment, and that... we couldn't be sure what would happen to them."

_He thinks I would hurt our babies._ The accusation sent disgust rippling through her. "How could you believe that?" she demanded. "Do you truly have that little trust in me?"

Anakin gave her what could only be described as a petulant stare. "So far, he's been the only one that hasn't lied to me. Everything he's said has come to pass."

"This isn't you," Padmé said, viciously. "I could never hurt our children. You would _never_ think I could be capable of such a thing, and you would _never_ follow someone so blindly as you do him. Don't you see that Palpatine is only using you? Don't you realise your own _blindness?"_

Anakin surged forward suddenly, catching her with strong hands before she could move away. He leaned in close, pausing a breath away, as if waiting for her to close the gap.

"This isn't you either," he answered back coldly. "You're supposed to trust me, Padmé. You're supposed to always be there for me, but now you can barely stand to look at me." Tears prickled his eyes. "I did all of this for you, all I need is for you to _trust in me_."

"I didn't _want_ any of this, Anakin!" Padmé cried, and brought her hand across his cheek in a stinging slap. Anakin staggered back, less out of pain and more out of surprise. His fingers moved up to the red marks blossoming on his cheek.

"I was just trying to protect--"

"I don't need you to protect me, Anakin. I loved you, but you've taken that and warped it into something I can't recognize anymore!"

Anakin was silent for a long time, hand resting on his face.

"What do you want, Padmé?" he finally asked.

"To be as far away from you as possible."

Anakin's eyes squinted in anger and distress. "Then go **. Leave**."

Her heart fluttered deep in her chest, with a fierce and foolish hope. "Where are the children, Anakin?" Padmé said. "Please, just tell me where they are. "

"So you can take them from me, too? No." Anakin bit back an angry sob, and all around them metal began to twist, screws shot out of their places, spanners floated in the air. "No. If you want to go so badly, then you can go _alone!"_

"How can you be so cruel?" asked Padmé.

"It's cruel what you're doing to me. All I ever did was love you."

Padmé's small hands balled into fists at her sides. "This isn't love, Anakin. You don't care about how I feel; this is all about you, and what you're too scared to lose."

"You sound like Obi-Wan."

"Good. At least he can see sense!"

Anakin's lips stretched back, baring his teeth. "Was he the one that convinced you to do this?"

Padmé's eyes widened a fraction. "I was the one who decided to do this, Anakin. No one else. Obi-Wan has no idea." She shook her head. "Don't use me as an excuse to hurt him."

"If you don't want anything to happen to him, then don't leave," he said.

Padmé couldn't tell if he was bluffing or not, and it both terrified and sickened her.

"I'd take him with me too, if you'd let me."

"No!" Anakin yelled, eyes flashing a blindingly brilliant gold. " Obi-Wan isn't going anywhere. _None of them_ are going anywhere."

"He isn't safe here, Anakin! You think Palpatine will just let him live? He'll use him like he used me to coerce you into doing his bidding, and he'll use Luke and Leia as well, " Padmé said, her voice congealed with sorrow. "You say you care about them? Then let them go. Show you still have something of the man I fell in love with left in you."

She was standing close to him now, close enough that Anakin had to bend his neck to look at her. Everything seemed to slow to a standstill.

"I need to know you won't hurt our children."

She saw him stiffen. "I'm not a monster, Padmé. I would never hurt them."

"And Obi-Wan?"

Anakin's brows furrowed. "I _saved_ him. He would have died if I'd left him behind on Mustafar. He should be grateful."

" _You_ were the reason he was there, and the reason he almost died. You were going to kill him, Anakin. You were going to _kill_ Obi-Wan. Would you be grateful, if it were you?"

Anakin's gaze lowered to the floor, and she knew he had no argument for that. Now he was the one trying to step away, but she reached out and kept a firm hold on his tabards.

_"Ani,"_ She murmured, pouring everything she had into that one small word. All her love; her anguish; her strength; her fear. She needed him to listen.

But he didn't.

Anakin's arms shot out and wrapped around her, crushing her against him. Padmé let out a loud cry of protest.

"Let me go, Anakin!"

His grasp tightened on her, tethering her in place. He watched her intently, with golden-yellow eyes that weren't his.

"Don't go, please?" he offered her a tremulous smile, tilting his head to the side. "You don't even realise how much you mean to me. I love you so much; I can't let you go..." Anakin's eyelids lowered. "I won't let you leave me. I can't _, I can't_."

She stared up at him, horrified, and pushed at him again. He _laughed._

"I held you like this on Naboo, don't you remember? Just like this. I never thought I could be so happy. I love you, Padmé."

His voice petered off, and his eyes closed completely. He lowered his mouth down to hers, lips sealing around lips, mouthing them apart. And she felt pressure begin to press around her neck...

Padmé moved faster than she ever thought possible, pulling the vibroknife she'd hidden in her sleeve and bringing it down hard against Anakin's leg. It stuck.

A scream was torn from Anakin's throat, gusting into her own mouth.

"Argh!" he stumbled away from her, but not before she lunged, grabbing at one of two metal cylinders hanging at his utility belt.

He'd barely regained himself when Padmé thumbed the activation stud of Obi-Wan's lightsaber, igniting the buzzing plasma blade.

"Stay _back_ ," she spat, her voice strangely brutal even to her own ears. Sobs catching in her throat made her next words hoarse. "I'm leaving, and you won't stop me."

Anakin stared down the cobalt beam of light. His eyes were toxic, and Padmé accepted in that instant that she may well and truly die.

Yet, she did not balk.

She held the lightsaber in shaking, unpracticed hands in front her, with the end pointed straight at her husband as he finally managed to step backward. Anakin's leg buckled beneath him, and he fell to one knee with a hiss of pain before he could reach her.

He looked down at where the vibroknife still jutted out of his leg like a mechanical thorn, and with no hesitation, he gripped the hilt and tugged it out of the flesh of his thigh. He stared at it for a moment in his hand, the vibrating blade soaked with his blood.

That was when the distant echo of guards running down the hall reached them both.

_No._ Padmé's blood froze and her heart gave a sickening lurch against her ribs as panic seized her _. She was too late_. She knew entertaining the idea of defending herself against both Anakin and the guards was a foolish notion. She could already see them nearing the open blast door.

_I will not die afraid._

Padmé widened her legs into a firmer stance, grasping the lightsaber tightly.

**_I will not die afraid._ **

They were all but through when a great, sharp screech sounded throughout the large room. The guardsmen froze, some beneath the blast door, just as the giant slab of durasteel came thundering down. They didn't even have a chance to cry out.

Padmé swallowed, unsure of what had just happened. Then her eyes fell on Anakin, still kneeling on the ground with a black stain spreading across his dark trousers, and one hand raised.

"Did you just--?"

"Go!" he grimaced as another jolt of pain sparked from his stab wound. "Before more of them come."

Padmé was at a loss. Even with every bit of her sense screaming at her to run, she stood rooted to the spot. She didn't even realise the lightsaber had flickered off, and the hilt rested heavy in her hands. Heavier than she'd ever thought it could be.

Anakin noticed her hesitation, and glared up at her with tears dripping from the edges of his eyes. "Go now, or you _will_ die."

There was a chilling truth to the words. Padmé didn't lower her guard as she took one tentative step back, then another, and another.

She felt behind her for the instrument panel that controlled the door, and tapped it open. She stepped backwards out into the corridor, her eyes never leaving Anakin.

_Things can still change. Perhaps even he can still change._

She pressed those words deep down, and left them there. She couldn't think about that now _. Not now._

Her thoughts instead fled to Obi-Wan as she turned and raced down the hall toward the personal hanger bay. They fled to her children, and they fled to who Anakin had once been, and to what he'd now become.

Padmé prayed for strength; for all of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *A vibroknife is, well, a knife. A knife that uses an internal generator to make the blade vibrate. Basically, it'll hurt. A lot.
> 
> *Senate Guards are always dressed in blue (Not be confused with Pulpyteen's Royal Guards, which are red). Just something good to know.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin returns to Obi-Wan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emotions, extra spicy. Please enjoy, and thanks for the comments/kudos/bookmarks/and all the rest so far!

Obi-Wan didn't hear the front door open, nor did he hear the footfalls of heavy boots coming down the hallway. He didn't even hear the sharp crunch of a gloved fist hitting a wall, cracking the off-grey plaster like mud in the sun. He did, however, feel the volcanic emotion that accompanied those acts through the Force.

Years upon years of time spent upon the battlefield brought Obi-Wan immediately to wakefulness, and he instinctively maneuvered himself to standing as he stared toward the entrance to the hall. It was too dark to see properly, the room only half bathed in the flickering blue light of the holovision he had left on.

That rage spilling into the Force, broiling and violent; that pain like a hot brand upon his flesh... Obi-Wan couldn't help but shudder.

_This_ was the raw emotion of Anakin Skywalker.

His apprehension must have been felt through their bond as well, because before Obi-Wan could properly calm himself, Anakin stood in his doorway.

He looked horrid, with his appearance even more disheveled than usual. His cloak was gone, and his left leg appeared injured. His eyes were so yellow they nearly glowed, the sclera surrounding them a faded pink, as if Anakin had been crying.

Obi-Wan forced himself not to look away. He didn't know what his former apprentice would do if he did. Anakin only hovered there, motionless, like a predator about to strike, with his face half in darkness and half in static-filled light. But Obi-Wan knew better; he'd fought beside Anakin for years. He knew when he was preparing for a fight.

Without even taking a breath, Obi-Wan braced himself. "Anaki--"

An invisible hand of the Force slammed over his mouth with enough strength to send Obi-Wan stumbling backwards onto the bed. Power pressed down upon him, and it felt like his entire body was held under a tremendous, impossible weight. His pupils shrank to pinpricks of black, and his breath came out in short, harsh bursts.

"It's your fault," Anakin growled, stalking toward him with one hand raised. This wasn't the new Anakin that Obi-Wan had come to know, the one that was wicked but clever in his cruelties. No, this one was all violence and fury, the beast he'd only glimpsed on Mustafar. A Sith in his purest form.

Obi-Wan struggled to speak, and to move as Anakin came to a stop where his feet dangled off of the bed. "Don'--"

Suddenly, unseen fingers closed around his throat. Pressing and digging in hard enough to bruise. In some faraway, calm part of his mind, Obi-Wan was surprised his neck didn't immediately snap from the strength of the Force Choke.

Then Anakin was upon him, pulling himself onto the bed and straddling Obi-Wan. Close. _Too close_. Obi-Wan could taste the miasma of the Dark Side in the air around them; felt spots dark as dried blood settle on his skin through the Force when Anakin's hand gripped his face, nails squeezing into the soft, bearded flesh below his chin.

"It's your fault... _All your fault_ ," Anakin hissed, lips pulled back in an animalistic snarl. The Force crushing Obi-Wan's throat squeezed even tighter, and Anakin's other hand slid down to wrap around his neck along with it, and then Anakin was yelling. "LOOK AT ME. LOOK AT ME, DAMN YOU!"

And Obi-Wan did. Even with his vision beginning to cloud over, he could plainly see the tears falling from Anakin's molten eyes. Water from pure fire. He blinked up at the face twisted in a rictus of rage and pain above him.

Anakin stared back at him, and in that sulfuric gaze Obi-Wan _knew_ it was Anakin. Terrified and flayed raw by his emotions, but more Anakin than he had seen for days. _Weeks._

Pity, and an almost parental urge to calm his former charge pulsed through him. Obi-Wan could easily have blamed it on the lack of oxygen making its way to his brain.

Unable to speak, he sent a soothing feeling through their link, saying the only thing he could think of.

_It's all right, Anakin. You're all right._

It was like a cool wave of water drifting across scorching earth, extinguishing any flames and leaving them both standing amid the uncertainty of smoke. The hands on Obi-Wan's throat loosened, and the pressure holding down his body evaporated like mist.

"It isn't all right."

Anakin hunched over, knees digging painfully into Obi-Wan's hips. His rage had frozen, calcified over, but Obi-Wan knew it wasn't gone.

_"None of it is all right_."

"Shhh, you're all right," Obi-Wan repeated with his physical voice, struggling ineffectually to move Anakin off of him. "Anakin, I need you to get off of me so that we may discuss this." Obi-Wan hesitated before continuing. "Just like we used to. Would you like that?"

Mutely, Anakin juddered his head up and down, but he didn't move.

Carefully, Obi-Wan brought his hand up to grab the one around his throat by the wrist, and slowly pulled it away. Anakin didn't fight it.

"Please, get off of me," Obi-Wan said, grasping at another tactic. "It hurts."

Anakin's eyes widened, and he sucked in a breath as the fingers of his mechanical hand suddenly danced along the bandaged stump of Obi-Wan's left arm. "I'm sorry I had to do it," he muttered, ignoring everything else that had been said. "You don't realise how sorry I am, but it was the only way I could get you to _listen_ , don't you understand?"

Obi-Wan felt a warning tremble in his link with Anakin, and he hastily built up what shields he could. It would have little effect, if Anakin decided to push his way into his mind to find out if he truly understood, but it brought comfort to him nonetheless. The comfort of a child in imaginary armor.

Anakin sensed it, and anger began to carve itself across the lines in his face.

_"Listen to me!"_ Anakin spat out, almost sobbing. _"Don't block me out, Obi-Wan."_

A blinding pressure pounded against Obi-Wan's shields. Pushing; squeezing itself through the cracks in his defenses. Attempting to invade that most personal of spaces completely.

Adrenaline fed by fear pulsed through Obi-Wan. He entire body trembled with it.

Even without the Force, he still knew how to fight. And for once, he wasn't cuffed.

Obi-Wan whipped his body around sharply, and Anakin's mental assault ceased as they began to grapple and rolled across the mattress and onto the floor. Anakin's eyes were lambent with fury as he found himself pinioned down by Obi-Wan, and every attempt to capture the older man's flailing limbs failed as Obi-Wan twisted and fought against his hold.

He let out a guttural snarl, and threw his weight forward, pitching Obi-Wan off balance. Desperate to keep the upper hand, Obi-Wan threw a punch aimed at Anakin's jaw, but Anakin blocked the blow easily, then flipped Obi-Wan and caught his right arm, bending it at the elbow and pressing the limb upward viciously.

Obi-Wan gritted his teeth in pain, the rough patches of the carpet scraping into his cheek. _He had to move._

With a grunt, Obi-Wan pulled up his foot and brought his heel hard into the bloodstain marring Anakin's leg, and the younger man fell off of him with a gasp of pain.

Obi-Wan scrambled up and bolted out of his room and towards the front door as quickly as his legs could take him.

He ran so fast he nearly smacked into the wall beside the door panel. His breath was loud and heavy in his ears, but not quite so deafening that he couldn't hear Anakin beginning to pull himself back up in the room beyond.

He slid his palm down the door control.

Nothing.

He did it again. Nothing. Again. _Nothing._ No lights; no confirming blip. When the third attempt failed, Obi-Wan slapped the plastisteel touchscreen in frustration. It had to be calibrated to Anakin!

He looked around hurriedly. There had to be a way out of this. _Think, Kenobi!_ He didn't know if he could fight off Anakin again -- he certainly believed in his own skills, but he wasn't stupid -- in the current condition he was in, Obi-Wan knew he couldn't win in a fair fight. Trickery, then? Could he somehow get Anakin to open the door? Unlikely. There was only one course that wouldn't see him dead on the floor in the next few minutes.

He had to hide.

There weren't many places in the small apartment, but if he could barricade himself in a room that would at least give him time to come up with a better plan.

Obi-Wan was already on the move when Anakin came out of the bedroom. He had a single moment of warning -- a sharp, bright snap in his weakened Force connection -- before Anakin slammed into him, crashing them both into a heap next to the door.

"Agh!"

Obi-Wan brought his left knee between himself and Anakin, and with his right kicked him hard in the hip, pushing himself into a backwards somersault that moved him far enough away to land in a crouch. Anakin glared at him, so ensconced within his own anger that he didn't even think to use the Force. He wasn't favoring his injured leg anymore, either, as he stood back up to his full height. The wound was beyond his notice now.

It was while Obi-Wan was looking there that his eyes happened to move up, to Anakin's utility belt.

_Of course._ _Force, but he was a fool._

_Anakin's lightsaber!_

That would open the bloody door, genetic calibration or no. But that meant getting near enough to grab it, and putting himself within reach of Anakin again was the last thing Obi-Wan wanted.

But he had no choice.

"What did you mean by 'it was my fault'?" Obi-Wan demanded, attempting distraction as he slowly began to move in a half-circle in the cramped space. " _What_ was my fault?

_"Everything. You_ spoke to Padmé. Made her doubt me." Anakin grimaced, as if saying the name brought him physical pain, as he moved in step with Obi-Wan. "You convinced her to leave me, I _know_ you did. She would never have said those things to me. She-" Anakin's eyes knitted together with uncertainty, and his gaze flitted down for half a moment, as both he and Obi-Wan came upon the closest point between their parallel revolutions. "She couldn't have meant it. She _couldn't."_

That was all the time he needed. Leaning down, Obi-Wan surged forward into Anakin, using the advantage of surprise to slam him back into the wall. There was an audible click as Anakin's teeth gnashed together, and Obi-Wan was already tugging the lightsaber away and turning back towards the door.

Obi-Wan lunged, thumbing the ignition stud, but was tugged back hard by his elbow before he could reach the door panel. The red plasma beam retreated before it had even fully emerged, and the hilt flew from his grasp.

Obi-Wan fell heavily against Anakin, and found his throat caught tight in the crook of Anakin's elbow. He bucked his head back, but a hand at the base of his skull kept it firmly in place.

Pulling them both to the floor, Anakin hooked his legs around Obi-Wan's waist before the older man could react, attempting to hold him immobile. Obi-Wan let out a strangled yell and arched his back, but Anakin simply followed the movement and pressed himself flatter to the ground. Whichever way Obi-Wan twisted or thrashed, Anakin moved with him like water following the curve of a riverbank.

Obi-Wan's only hand went from hitting whatever part of Anakin it could reach to vainly trying to pry away the pressure crushing his throat. His fingers curled around the slippery synthleather of Anakin's glove; pulled; scratched; tried to slip beneath the inhuman strength, but to no avail.

They were both beginning to tire. Obi-Wan could feel Anakin panting harshly beneath him, and as he stilled his attempts to break free, Anakin's hold loosened ever so slightly. Enough to allow him to speak.

"Where is... Padmé?" Obi-Wan gasped, clutching tightly at Anakin's forearm. "Anakin! Did you... hurt her?"

His former pupil's chest rose and fell faster against his back, as if Anakin couldn't quite catch his breath.

"She wanted to leave me, Obi-Wan," he growled into his hair. "She said she didn't love me anymore. She _betrayed_ me."

_Betrayed._ The ferocity in that single word spurred Obi-Wan into action once more. _Had Anakin killed her? Or had she escaped him?_

That momentary lapse gave Obi-Wan the leverage he needed. He moved his hand down and pulled Anakin's foot up viciously, at the same time turning himself onto his side. He managed to twist from the iron hold, and brought his elbow back hard into Anakin's diaphragm.

His former apprentice released his hold completely with a rasping wheeze. Obi-Wan untangled their legs and crawled forward on his hand and knees towards where the lightsaber had landed.

He had to find out. He had to know. _He had to get out of here._ The mad, primal fear of caged animal sent his mind careening madly, and he couldn't think anything through.

Oh, but he believed he did as he moved even further away. He would use the lightsaber to open the door, and then run to... to anywhere. He'd find a ship, fly as far and long as he had to and--

A scenario months ahead in his mind ended abruptly with one Force-imbued command from Anakin.

"Obi-Wan, stop." _Stop. **Stop.**_

And to the Jedi Master's horror, he _did._

His arm wobbled and went limp beneath him first, causing him to slump forward onto the cold floor paneling, with his fingers just a hair's length away from the lightsaber. He couldn't get his arm to move, nor his legs. It was as if his entire body had fallen asleep.

_When had Anakin's control of the Force become so powerful?_

_Was he more susceptible to it simply because of their bond?_

Having recovered, Anakin grasped Obi-Wan's shoulders and pulled him back towards him. He crushed Obi-Wan into an embrace, even going so far has to wrap a foot over Obi-Wan's knees to keep him from moving away again. He needn't have bothered; Obi-Wan couldn't even twitch a finger.

Anakin clung to him with a disquieting desperation, and his body began to tremble against Obi-Wan's back. It took Obi-Wan a moment to realise it was because he was crying.

"She listened to you, an-and I lost her. It's your fault, your fault that she's gone" Anakin pressed his face into Obi-Wan's shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. "You made me do this. Made me hurt you, and she _hates_ me for it..."

Anakin's chest hitched as a sob caught in his throat, and his fingers gathered up wads of Obi-Wan's tunic between them.

_"What have I done, Obi-Wan?"_ Anakin asked in a soft, strangled wail.

**~*~**

They remained like that for a good while, tangled around each other, with only the sound of stifled crying breaking the otherwise complete silence.

As Anakin's weeping petered down into a few gasping hiccups, Obi-Wan finally managed to speak through numb lips.

"Anakin..."

This seemed to break the spell. Extricating himself from Obi-Wan, Anakin moved up onto his knees. The hiccups had ceased, replaced with an eerie quiet. Leaning forward, he slid powerful arms under Obi-Wan's back and legs and lifted him up like a child.

Obi-Wan forced his mouth to move, but none of the words writhing about in his head would come forth. Even his mental calls across the thin thread of their bond were being ignored.

He managed to flap his hand uselessly Anakin's chest as he stood. _"Wait..."_

Anakin carried him to the bedroom like that, laying him back on his bedsheets. He didn't bother with the cuff.

He stood over him, eyes red and wet.

Obi-Wan's body gradually began to obey him again, a sensation like fire blazing through him as his arm and legs suddenly came awake. As soon as he could move properly, he sat up and immediately asked, "What happened to Padmé? _Anakin."_

Still standing, Anakin's gaze clouded over, and the very room began to vibrate with the tremendous power of the Dark Side. "She's gone," he said.

_Dead, then?_ Obi-Wan bit back a curse. Every scenario he could think up began to race endlessly through his head. _He should have helped her; he should have convinced her the idea was too dangerous; he should have warned her how deep Anakin's rage truly went;_ **_he should have killed Anakin when he'd had the chance..._** but he hadn't. He couldn't. Even when he'd had Anakin's lightsaber in his hand, the thought had never crossed his mind to turn it on his former Padawan. Would he ever have been able to?

All the should-haves and the could-haves and the would-haves... none of them mattered now. Obi-Wan had failed, again. Was there anyone he could actually protect, or was he doomed to see all those he cared for fall around him?

Anakin wiped at his face, cheeks splotched with red and pink. "She isn't dead. She left me. Back at the Senate Building." he gestured vaguely at his leg. "She's the one who did this."

A haze of relief settled over Obi-Wan's troubled thoughts, but it was delicate and quick to disappear.

"And the babies?" he heard himself ask, vaguely aware of how hollow his voice sounded.

Anakin was watching a spot on the floor intently with red-rimmed eyes, his mouth set in a trembling line as if to keep from shouting, or sobbing again.

"They're still in the ICU. They were born so early... the doctors don't know if they'll make it." Anakin's breath hitched again. "They're--they...can't breathe on their own yet. I didn't even get to _hold_ them before they had to be put into incubators. She-she didn't know."

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan said, flatly.

And he was. For too many things.

Anakin wavered on his feet, pain and exhaustion throbbing through their bond.

"You made me hurt you," he murmured again, more to himself than to Obi-Wan. "She left me because I hurt you."

"No. Not just me. She left because you hurt _her_ , " Obi-Wan corrected him, slowly moving himself to sit at the side of the bed. He was sick of recumbency. "Because you're hurting yourself, Anakin."

"I...I don't," Anakin pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, and fell to his knees before his former Master. "I don't know what I'm doing, Obi-Wan. This wasn't how things were meant to be!"

His shoulders shook, and he looked so pathetic. The most powerful being in the galaxy, weeping on his knees before someone he could have killed a hundred times over. A lesser man would have let it go to his head.

Obi-Wan felt only guilt.

Haltingly, he placed his hand on Anakin's shoulder. He squeezed when Anakin looked up at him, long eyelashes sticking to his tear-wet cheeks.

He looked and he looked, and Obi-Wan stared right back.

And that mad, possessive gleam in Anakin's eyes returned, and he was clutching desperately at Obi-Wan's legs.

"I love you, Obi-Wan."

Anakin held onto him, like a child seeking comfort and assurance from a parent. " _I love you_." he repeated. "I can't lose you. I need you. _I've always needed you_. I should have told you that on Mustafar, when you said you loved me, but instead I-I-I almost _killed_ you! I don't know what I would have done if you or Padmé had died there..." He huffed in a wheezing breath as he continued his confession. " _Force,_ Obi-Wan... she's gone. Because of me. I can't do this on my own. I need you. I'm so sorry I hurt you. I love you. Say it again. I need to know I have someone left. I don't want to be all alone. I love you. I love you. Please..."

And despite everything that had happened, despite all that Anakin had done, Obi-Wan still saw that scared little boy from Tatooine. He still felt responsible. He still....

"I love you too, Anakin," he whispered, leaning forward to wrap his one arm around the Sith Lord.

[By quadrupedum](http://quadrupedum.tumblr.com/)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when you thought things couldn't get more dysfunctional.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? I can write fluff. Domestic fluff! I can! Almost!
> 
> Enjoy~

Anakin slept in Obi-Wan's room that night, curled up around him. Obi-Wan remembered many times during his early Knighthood when Anakin had done the same, chased into Obi-Wan's room or bunk by nightmares. But he'd been a boy then, his Padawan, and not a Sith Lord that had nearly killed him hours before.

_Be strong, Obi-Wan._

He came awake suddenly, the echo of an achingly familiar voice in his mind. But as his eyes adjusted to the dull lighting of the room, it faded. Obi-Wan wasn't sure why that fact made him feel so forlorn.

It was beyond early in the morning. He could tell by the thin twilight filtering in through the window, turning the room a soothing grey. He blinked.

His arm was going numb beneath Anakin's weight.

["Proximity" by profdrlachfinger](http://profdrlachfinger.tumblr.com/)

"Anakin."

A half-mumbled reply.

A muscle twitched in Obi-Wan's jaw. He jogged his arm lightly, and was that _drool_ he felt...?!

"Anakin!" he said, louder, jerking his shoulder into the younger man's face.

Anakin snorted in his sleep and blinked awake, eyes barely staying a crack open as he looked up at Obi-Wan.

"...wha'?"

Obi-Wan glared back moodily.

"Get off of me."

He expected some kind of argument; a trade at the expense of his pride or an inarguable 'no', but to his surprise, Anakin simply grunted in acquiescence.

Still half asleep, he pushed himself up (and yes, that was definitely drool on his shoulder. Lovely) and rolled across Obi-Wan to get to the other side of the bed.

"Really? You couldn't have simply gotten up?" Obi-Wan grumbled once Anakin was, thankfully, completely off of him. "At least get under the blanket." he pulled at it. _"Anakin."_

A sigh and a smacking of lips was all that answered him as Anakin settled in on the inner part of the bed, back still curling into Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and waited for the pins-and-needles feeling to leave his arm. He found he didn't feel any less quarrelsome.

"I don't recall you ever being this lazy as a Jedi," he challenged, Again, no answer. Only soft snores. Seemed even Sith Lords didn't like to argue before the sun was up.

Turning onto his side, then onto his back again, Obi-Wan slowly fell back into a dreamless sleep himself.

**~*~**

It was late morning, bordering on afternoon, when Obi-Wan found himself awake again, warm sunshine streaming through the window and onto his face. He twitched his nose at the sensation, and rolled onto his stomach with a soft huff of breath. He was awake now, for better or worse, but there was no need to hurry...

"It's better to just stay up at this point," a familiar voice murmured teasingly beside him.

Obi-Wan cracked open one bleary eye, and scowled. Anakin was still in his bed.

"Is there a reason you haven't gone back to your own bedroom yet?"

"Good morning to you too, Master." Anakin, rumpled and bleary, stretched like a cat and scratched at his belly. "I love you."

Obi-Wan made a point of flipping his pillow over, and burrowing his face into the cool underside. "Morning, Anakin," he answered , voice muffled and low enough that Anakin wouldn't notice if he didn't reciprocate the last three words. Memory of what had transpired toward the end of their fight the night before came flooding back like a wave, and it was too early for this, simply _too_ early for this.

He felt the bed dip as Anakin moved to the end of the mattress.

Curious, Obi-Wan pushed himself up. Levering on his arm, he watched the other man drowsily.

Anakin yawned so wide that his jaw cracked and popped, and as he began to stand up he grimaced, looking down at his leg.

Obi-Wan felt a startling surge of guilt when he saw Anakin pluck at his trousers, the dark material stiff and stuck to his skin with dried blood. Anakin must have sensed his unease, because he looked over his shoulder at him and smirked sheepishly.

"It looks worse than it is," he said, tensing slightly as he began to peel that section of material up with probing fingers. "I'll mend it after breakfast. You must be starving."

Anakin had always acted this way when he was hurt, even before the war against the Separatists. Even before he had been a full-fledged adult. As a child he had acted as if he was perfectly sound, because he didn't want to worry anyone, and Obi-Wan had spent countless worrisome nights in too many medbay waiting rooms because of it. That particular trait had always irked him, and now was no different.

"No. You go mend it now, and take a shower while you're at it. You reek. _I'll_ handle breakfast."

Obi-Wan was surprised at the strength behind his words, but he was even more surprised when Anakin ducked his head, obscuring his face behind a wall of hazel curls. His shoulders began to shake, and Obi-Wan propped himself up higher on his elbow in worry.

"Anakin, are you all right?" he asked.

Leaning his head back again, Obi-Wan was treated to a divine smile from his former apprentice. His eyes were a vivid pale blue, glittering like he was about to cry, and every time another small giggle swayed through him they squinted into thin crescents.

"It's nothing. I just really love you, Obi-Wan."

Heat built up in Obi-Wan's chest and face, but he still gave Anakin a nonplussed look in return. "You do realize that saying it constantly takes away from the impact, don't you?"

"Actually, I disagree," replied Anakin, rolling his shoulders as he finally pushed himself off of the bed. He began to undress once he was on his feet, pulling off his sash and belt, shrugging off his tabards as he spoke. "I think one should say it as often as they can. You never know when you might see someone last."

"I highly doubt you'll die on your way to the 'fresher."

Anakin paused after he had pulled off his outer tunic, hands poised at his waist, and frowned at Obi-Wan. There was no anger behind the look, however; just mild annoyance, untainted by the Dark Side.

Anakin sighed and tugged the russet-colored undertunic up and over his head. Once divested of it, he gathered up everything else he had taken off and turned towards the door.

"You're impossible to understand, Master," he said, cheekily. "But I guess that's just another thing to love about you."

Obi-Wan groaned, burying his face in his arm and closing his eyes. "Stop."

Anakin laughed softly as he left the room. "Okay, okay."

**~*~**

Making breakfast with one arm was much harder than Obi-Wan expected.

Though he was finally getting used to having only one, he found himself constantly having to get creative in how he went about things. Mostly, he came to the rather vexing conclusion that he needed to go much slower than he was used to if he didn't want to make a mess.

After pulling open more than a few cabinets and drawers (he hadn't realised just how much he had depended on Padmé to know where everything was) Obi-Wan managed to gather up enough ingredients for something passable.

More importantly, he found the tea.

The sound of the shower splashing on rumbled through the apartment just as Obi-Wan was setting the kettle down to boil. He rolled his eyes as he pulled out a pouch of Sapir, tearing it open with his teeth. Anakin was going to take his time, wasn't he?

The rich, fragrant scent brought a fond, tiny smile to Obi-Wan's face. It had been Qui-Gon's favorite.

He spotted Anakin passing down the hall just as he was making himself his first cuppa, a towel wrapped low around his waist.

"I'm not to blame if your breakfast gets cold," Obi-Wan called after him.

"I know!" A beat in between. "Love you, too!"

Obi-Wan frowned down at his reflection in the green-colored beverage.

**~*~**

Anakin walked barefoot into the kitchen a little later, dressed in a loose, short-sleeved undertunic and matching trousers. He ran fingers through the still-damp hair plastered to his neck, letting out a disappointed whine. "You didn't make any caf?" he asked.

Obi-Wan's teacup hovered halfway to his mouth.

"Of course not. I detest the stuff, you know that," he said evenly, and took another sip.

Anakin pulled a hand down his face, rubbing at the sleep still hanging off of his eyes. "Not all of us can survive on tea. Some of us need caf. A _lot_ of it." he yawned, blinking sluggishly as he pressed the caf maker on, stirred in the mixings and placed the carafe underneath the distributor before falling back into one of the dining table chairs. He casually threw his arms behind the seat and sighed contentedly.

Obi-Wan had felt a slight pulse in the Force earlier. Anakin must have used what rudimentary healing abilities he had to mend the torn flesh of his thigh. That likely explained why he looked so relaxed now.

The caf maker sent a pleasant, heady aroma wafting through the room, and when it beeped complete, Anakin all but leapt out of his seat to grab at the pitcher. He found the biggest mug he could, and filled it to brimming. He was already halfway finished with it by the time he came to sit back down, placing the carafe on the table between them.

There were two plates set, but Anakin reached straight for Obi-Wan's first, plucking a succulent looking piece of meat off of it and popping it into his mouth.

Obi-Wan glared at him. "Honestly-" he began.

Anakin gave him an innocent look. "Hey, you're the one that gave yourself the best stuff! It's only fair that you share." To accentuate his point, he darted his hand forward and snagged another piece, grinning boyishly as he ate it and licked at his fingertips.

Obi-Wan tugged his plate closer to himself, muttering. " _Stealing from a one-armed man._ I taught you better than that."

"Apparently not." Anakin smiled around his fingertip, eyes quickly flicking down to Obi-Wan's left side before settling back on his face again. "Does it hurt?"

Obi-Wan glanced down at what remained of his left arm. Truth be told, the stump still felt heavy, but he was used to the ache.

"It feels fine," Obi-Wan answered.

"Don't lie to me, Master," Anakin's tone turned dangerous, ever so slightly, as he followed Obi-Wan's gaze and sighed. "There's no shame in admitting it. I remember mine hurt for weeks afterwards, even after I was put in enough healing trances to last me until death." Anakin let out a humorless laugh, and flexed his mechanical hand. "Sometimes it felt like my fingers were being bent backwards," he said, and looked directly into Obi-Wan's eyes. "So, does it hurt?"

Obi-Wan clutched a little tighter to his fork, twisting the tines in his food thoughtfully. Something told him it would not be wise to lie again.

"It aches," he said.

Anakin made a worried noise in the back of his throat, and sat up a little straighter. "That isn't good. Maybe I should bring a med-droid back here to take a look at it."

Obi-Wan stiffened. He had never much cared for droids. Least of all ones with needles for hands, that poked and prodded at you like some bizarre specimen.

"Anakin, I really don't think that's ne--"

An unusual, buzzing ping interrupted him, and Anakin jolted up with a steely look on his face.

"I have to get that."

Obi-Wan's brows furrowed. "Why, who is it?"

But Anakin was already walking away, hands pulling his wayward maelstrom of curls into something resembling professional. "Palpatine," was all he said.

Obi-Wan didn't get a chance to reply before he was gone.

**~*~**

The food had begun to cool, and the atmosphere along with it when Anakin finally returned. He was in full attire now, overtunic and tabards tucked under sash and belt, with a cape draped over his shoulders. He was stuffing a handheld holoprojector into his pocket with one hand, and speaking rapidly into a comlink with the other.

"--It's Vader. Yes, on the Emperor's orders. I'll be arriving shortly." Anakin clicked his comm shut with an aggravated look, but when he caught Obi-Wan watching him, he smiled. "Don't worry," he said. "Just work."

Obi-Wan lowered his eyelids and stared down at the tabletop. He knew exactly what manner of work it was: the same work that had destroyed the Order; the Jedi; _the younglings_. He had half a mind to point that out to Anakin; to infuriate his former Padawan once again, but something held him back. It may have been his promise to Padmé before she left, or, quite simply, the fact that he had enjoyed a morning acting as if nothing had ever happened. That this was still the same Anakin, and he was still the same Obi-Wan.

He was a weak man.

Despair settled in his throat like a cold stone, and he swallowed heavily to keep it in place. No need to give the shattered illusion voice.

Anakin noticed, and his smile worked itself down into a frown.

"I have to leave right now, Obi-Wan. Love you."

Obi-Wan set his teacup down and pushed it, and his plate, away. His appetite had floundered and died, and he suddenly felt extraordinarily tired.

"Good-bye, Anakin."

There was a tense few moments of silence.

"Master, you're forgetting something, aren't you?" Anakin asked quietly, and was that a tiny tremor of warning in his voice, or Obi-Wan's own guilt echoing back at him? He honestly could not tell.

"I don't need to repeat it again and again to mean it," Obi-Wan answered thinly.

Anakin nodded, thumbs hooked into his utility belt. "I understand, Master," he said, and then proceeded to show that he absolutely _didn't._ "But I could die out there. Speeder crash or something. You never know." He tilted his head to the side, and from one blink to the next his eyes had darkened to a burnished gold. "Nobody knows where you are except for me. You'd be stuck here, alone, and I think that you'd very much wish you'd said it then. You do love me, right, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan looked up at Anakin.

"You know I do," he replied softly. Helplessly.

"Then say it."

"I love you, Anakin."

And like a storm giving way to sunlight, Anakin's building fury dissipated, replaced with a remarkable imitation of calm. He smiled once again, eyes twinkling.

"I love you too, Obi-Wan," he said. "I'll be back soon. Thanks for the food."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Caf is coffee, which is understandably so powerful that it withstood the tests of both distance and time to still be with us here today (apparently)
> 
> *Sapir tea is what I like to call the Quiobi Blend. When Qui-Gon Jinn's friend and fellow Jedi, Tahl, died, Obi-Wan made sure to bring some to him early each morning at the Jedi Temple to try and cheer him up. How goddamn adorable is that?
> 
> *A comlink is a space cellphone. A holoprojecter (if the name couldn't tell you enough) is pretty much space Skype.
> 
> *If you don't think Anakin 'Give an Inch and He'll Take a Mile' Skywalker would be the type of person that says "I love you" every two seconds, then you should probably stop reading this fic now, because I'm gonna make sure he says it as often as possible.
> 
> *If you don't think Obi-Wan 'Emotionally Repressed' Kenobi would be the type of person that NEVER says "I love you", then etc.etc.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skeevy Sheevy in the houseeeee, make some noiiiiiiise!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy~

Palpatine's offices in the Executive Building were largely unchanged compared to the many times Anakin had visited them during the Clone Wars.

There were subtle differences, of course.

The reception area was still staffed by Dar Wac, although he didn't dare tell Anakin he required proper clearance now. The Rodian only gave him one terrified glance with star-speckled eyes as Anakin strode past his desk, not saying a word. Anakin preferred it that way; he had always found the fidgety receptionist tiresome anyway, and he was in no mood to deal with him.

The main office, once bright and inviting thanks to the impressive view offered by the panoramic viewport, was now dismal and dim. The shattered transparisteel had since been replaced after that fateful night, though heavy black curtains now covered most of it. The only colour that could be found in the large office now was the deep crimson of the carpet and walls, giving the room a blood-drenched appearance. Any actual damage the invading Jedi might have caused had long since been repaired as well.

It was almost like none of it had ever occurred.

A diminutive, hunched shape stood in front of the single slant of light the curtains offered, all but blocking it from view.

Anakin strode from the entryway straight towards the form, and without being asked genuflected before the Sith Lord.

"My Master," Anakin rumbled respectfully.

Palpatine turned from his view, sinister golden eyes zeroing in on the young man. His pallid face seemed as devoid of colour as the room itself, and the contrast only worsened when he turned completely from the window.

A swollen, black-nailed hand came to rest on Anakin's head, and Anakin remained obligingly silent as Palpatine rummaged through his mind, focusing on emotions and sensations instead of memories proper. The invasion -- for there was no better word for it, even with his consent -- always left Anakin feeling vile, but the older Sith insisted upon it. They had yet to form a Force bond, and Anakin wondered if they ever would. A bond required trust, and a certain level of submission, and Anakin was beginning to understand that that was one thing his Sith Master would never do.

There was a soft exhale of breath, and the intruding presence in his mind retreated. "Rise, my apprentice," Palpatine finally said, and pulled his hand away. "You have much to explain."

**~*~**

"Tell me what happened to your wife."

Palpatine reclined back in his lanthanide Chair of Office, while Anakin leaned forward in his seat on the other side of the desk, bracing his elbows on his knees. _Her_ warning kept echoing in his mind.

_Don't you see that Palpatine is only using you?_

"She's gone," Anakin said, unable to keep the tremor of misery out of his voice.

He wished this was still the kindly old man he'd once called a friend; the man that had been his confidant for years when he'd had no one else to turn to. But that man was no more -- had perhaps never existed at all.

"Because you let her go," Palpatine answered, lips curling in derision. "That was unwise, Lord Vader."

"You were going to have her killed!" Anakin replied, rough and angry. He found it exceedingly difficult to keep himself composed when he was around Palpatine. It was as if his very presence urged his frustration forward.

"Did you ever hear me give the order to kill her?" the Sith asked smoothly. "I only called her what she was: a traitor to our new Empire."

Anakin didn't appreciate the way he said 'was'. He knew Padmé was alive, somewhere. He would feel it if she was dead, as sure as he would feel any mortal wound. He glared down at his feet. Palpatine must have sensed the sentiment, because he did what every career politician did well, and quickly changed tact.

"The past tense is incorrect. Your wife has only fled you." Palpatine sighed, in a tone more patronizing than soothing. " It's cruel, is it not? To go through so much for her, only to be betrayed."

Anakin found himself nodding, and forced himself to stop. His new Master didn't seem to like that, and his tone grew colder.

"Political unrest is like a metastasizing tumor." The old Sith tilted his chin up. "No matter how humble its beginnings, it will devastate everything if we do not destroy it at its source. And its source, Lord Vader, is your wife."

"I will not kill Padmé," Anakin said, his voice hitching on her name.

"I did not expect you to." Palpatine's gummy eyes narrowed into slits. "But you must agree that she is dangerous."

"I will not kill her," Anakin repeated, a snarl building in his throat. "And neither will you. I'll kill you if you even attempt it."

"Oh, _my friend._ " Palpatine let out a gust of croaking laughter, and his eyes glinted beneath his hood. "I do believe you would try."

It was spoken so confidently that it almost didn't sound like a threat, but it twisted in Anakin's gut just the same. When he tensed in his seat, Palpatine held up a placating hand. "I will not be the reason your wife dies, Lord Vader," he said. "You have my word on that."

Anakin relaxed slightly, although his emotions were still weltering just beneath the surface.

"Is that all, my Master?" he asked, a little more desperately than he should have.

"What of Kenobi?"

Anakin knew he stiffened. Knew it by the way the Sith Lord's scarred visage stretched into something resembling a smirk.

"He lives."

"How unfortunate," Palpatine said, pale fingers wrapping around the top of his glossy, black cane in a way that eerily reminded Anakin of Yoda with his gimer stick. "I had hoped that you would have grown weary of that Jedi by now, and killed him as you did the others."

"I don't want to kill him."

"Then you are weak, Lord Vader. What is that Jedi to you, but a reminder of your own shortcomings?" The Sith Lord's bright eyes flared. " No doubt your wife was spurred on by his words. He has already begun to tear apart everything you have strived for, as I said he would the moment you brought him back to Coruscant."

"He is no threat," Anakin growled back. "He's...He's different. I care about him, and he cares about me. Why must I kill him?"

Palpatine sat up a little straighter, an odd hunger suddenly on his face.

"Dear boy," he began, the sentimental value of the name losing all meaning when his sickly eyes met Anakin's. "The Jedi are not to be trusted. Kenobi never cared for you. You were only a burden thrusted upon him by the Jedi Order. He is loyal to them, not to you, and he will destroy everything you have worked so hard to achieve. You will lose what family you have left, and he will kill you as soon as he's given the chance." Palpatine's yellow eyes flashed in the weak light. " _That_ is why you must kill him first. Succumb to the anger that I know to be there."

The thought hung before Anakin; he stared curiously at it.

He felt his rage raise its red-eyed head deep within his heart. What did Palpatine know? Nothing, he realised. The Sith Lord assumed Obi-Wan _wanted_ to kill him. He had no idea of the events on Mustafar; no inkling of Obi-Wan's heart, nor what Anakin's mercy truly meant.

He watched as Palpatine licked at his thin lips, relishing the anger welling off of his apprentice like a particularly fine wine. It made Anakin want to slice his face in half with his lightsaber.

He found himself biting off each word in his reply. "He can't do anything to stop us now. I've taken the Force from him, as well as his weapon."

"Ah, so he's a pet?" The Emperor's pale lips peeled back into a smile, and he leaned back in his chair with his fingers steepled. "How quaint."

"He's harmless," Anakin insisted. He didn't like this new interest Palpatine was suddenly showing in Obi-Wan, and he wanted it forgotten as quickly as possible.

"Bring him to me, then."

Anakin started. "Master, I _don't_ want him dead."

Palpatine's refulgent eyes watched him closely. "I will not kill him. I simply wish to see what hold this... _harmless_ Jedi has over you, nothing more. Do you ignore my wishes?"

Anakin inclined his head, passive. "No, my Master."

"Good." Palpatine turned his chair to stare out once more into the endless skyline of Coruscant, a silent dismissal. "Bring him tomorrow. I expect you to be quick."

**~*~**

It was very late when Anakin returned, his Force Signature a chaotic buzz.

Obi-Wan heard him shuffling about in the other rooms. The sound of boots being toed off and kicked to the side. The click of a utility belt being unbuckled and hidden away somewhere. The muted thump of clothing being pulled off, and drawers being dragged open. It had an almost rhythmic quality to it, and Obi-Wan soon found himself beginning to fall back into the lull of sleep.

The soft pattering of bare feet alerted him that Anakin had not gone to bed. Obi-Wan shifted slightly in his own just as the door slid open, and Anakin walked in dressed in loose sleep clothes, with a pillow cradled under one arm.

He gave Obi-Wan's body beneath the covers a furtive look, then moved forward, throwing first his pillow and then himself onto the bed.

Obi-Wan frowned, half-asleep and irritated by the sudden jarring of the mattress.

"Use your own bed," he mumbled, digging his head into the cool material of his pillow.

"I'll be quiet," Anakin whispered back, wriggling his way beneath the blankets to make himself comfortable. "You won't even know I'm here."

_Too late,_ Obi-Wan thought. He found himself blinking awake, and sitting up to glower at the shadowy shape of Anakin.

The younger man hugged the pillow he had brought with him tighter, peeking over it like a nervous child at Obi-Wan's annoyed look. In the cool dark, his eyes were little more than small glints of light.

"Why are you in here?"

Anakin mumbled something unintelligible into his pillow, curling himself closer to it.

"I promise I'll be quiet," he repeated, low. "Please let me stay, Obi-Wan."

[By drappersky](http://drappersky.tumblr.com/)

_Is he actually asking permission?_ That caught Obi-Wan off guard almost enough to agree, but something told him not to stop; _the reason_ Anakin was in here was vastly important.

Obi-wan paused, weighing his next question carefully. Even if Anakin seemed calm now, that didn't mean he would stay that way. That morning had taught Obi-Wan that much, at least, but he decided it was worth the repercussions. "Why?"

Anakin didn't answer him for a long time. Obi-Wan shifted to his side, watching the far wall and waited patiently, until Anakin finally spoke.

"I don't want to be alone right now," he said in a quiet voice.

Obi-Wan nodded, but he knew that was only part of the truth. "What did Palpatine say to you?"

He heard Anakin tug the blanket up tighter and grumble, "I don't want to talk about it right now. I'm tired. "

His strident tone told Obi-Wan it was best to simply leave it at that, but he didn't.

"I'll say it's okay for you to sleep in here if you tell me," he hedged as he rolled over.

He could feel Anakin's breath against his face. They were nearly nose-to-nose. "You'd kick me out because I won't talk to you?" Anakin murmured in a tired, incredulous tone.

Obi-Wan's eyebrows disappeared beneath his bangs. "You're acting as if it's a difficult thing, and I recall that you were rather intent on me speaking to you when I first woke up."

Obi-Wan was fairly sure Anakin scowled at him, but it was too dark to tell.

"I've been cross-examined enough for one day."

Obi-Wan sighed. "If you don't trust me enough to talk to me when it actually matters, then you shouldn't trust me enough to share the same bed."

No answer, but irritation began to throb in their bond.

Obi-Wan scoffed and moved onto his back. "Fine. I'll find a different room to sleep in."

He was just beginning to stand when a hand caught his wrist in a strong grip. It squeezed, pulling at him until he begrudgingly sat back down.

"Just stay with me," Anakin pleaded.

"Why? Because you love me that much?" Obi-Wan let the sarcasm drip from his words, and he wasn't all that shocked when a surprisingly gentle Force Choke gripped his neck and pulled him the rest of the way down.

"I don't want to hurt you, Obi-Wan. I _do_ love you," Anakin said, and the phantom pressure around his throat tightened. "But you will learn listen to me."

The hypocrisy in his words was too much. What was it Anakin wanted him to understand exactly, Obi-Wan wondered. He spoke of it, but never explained what _it_ was. Did he expect Obi-Wan to follow him blindly? How could he? Obi-Wan kept his gaze level with Anakin's, leaving too much unsaid.

"Why is it always the Force Choke with you?" he asked instead, deadpan.

The pressure lessened, more out of surprise than anything else. "It's effective," Anakin answered.

"Effectively overused." Obi-Wan attempted the most put-upon face he could and turned back around. He kept his mind carefully blank. "Get a new repertoire, and perhaps then I'll be afraid enough to want you near me."

His feint worked. Perhaps a little too well. Obi-Wan felt the bed dip beneath him as Anakin moved off, and the weight around his throat ceased.

"Nevermind. I'm sleeping on the sofa."

It was interesting that even now Anakin refused to sleep where Padmé had, but Obi-Wan was done probing for the night. He yawned, curling up beneath the blanket.

"Goodnight, then."

Anakin walked out without another word to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *As someone trained in the sacred arts of Reception, I can relate to the hell that Dar Wac the Rodian Receptionist must live through. I mean, shit, that guy had to try and talk down angry Jedi. Respect.
> 
> *Lanthanide is the armored metal that Palp's Seat in the Chancellor's Suite is made of. Kinda sounds like it would make a really cool band name, doesn't it?
> 
> *A gimer stick is a type of walking stick. Specifically Yoda's walking stick. Fun fact straight from the wiki: did you know that it has juices inside of it that act as a natural painkiller? Can you imagine Yoda in the thick of battle, sucking on the end of his walking stick like a straw? This guy, man.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan gets to leave the house!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, if blatant non-con elements aren't your forte this chapter will be a bit difficult. If for any reason that dissuades you from being able to read it, gimme a shout and I'll write out a summary of the chapter instead! Other than that...
> 
> Enjoy~
> 
> (Also, thank you for getting this fic to 200 kudos!)
> 
> (Also also, I recently released the first side story of this AU. It's titled Sophismata and takes place after the events of Chapter 6. It's a one-shot, nothing big, but if folks like it I'll get around to getting more like that up as time goes on)

Obi-Wan blinked awake to find Anakin staring down at him.

It was a startling thing to wake up to, but not half as astonishing as the next few words out of Anakin's mouth.

"Get up," he said, tone utterly level. "We're leaving soon."

_Leaving?_ Obi-Wan sat up in bed, but didn't pull himself out. He didn't trust what was happening in the slightest.

"Is this what was bothering you last night?" he asked. "You're letting me go?"

Anakin let out an aggravated sigh, and tossed a bundle of clothing at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan unfolded it carefully as he got out of bed, laying out the tunics and trousers on the bed. They were simple, comfortable, and tan-colored. He was surprised -- up until that moment, all the clothing he had been able to find around the apartment was as dark as Anakin's own.

"What are these for?"

A shard of worry sliced through their bond, gone as quick as it appeared, but Anakin had never been very good at keeping his face neutral.

"For your visit with Palpatine," he answered simply.

Obi-Wan shimmied out of his sleep tunic and pulled the new ones on. He was getting much better at doing that with only one arm. "The Chancellor wishes to see me?" he asked, keeping his tone nonchalant as he slipped out of his trousers and pulled the new ones on.

"It's the Emperor now, and _yes,_ " Anakin said.

"I'm to be killed today, then?" Obi-Wan blinked, and huffed out a small surprised breath at his own words. He supposed this had to happen eventually. Anakin _trusted_ Palpatine, after all.

Oddly enough, the thought hit him harder than the idea of his own death.

He was pulled out of his bleak contemplation by Anakin picking up the beige-coloured sash off of the bed and wrapping it around Obi-Wan's waist. He tied it tightly into place (in the Jedi fashion, though Obi-Wan assumed that was more out of habit than anything else) and moved his hands up to straighten Obi-Wan's collar, his face perplexingly still.

"No," he answered, his eyes gem-hard. "He just wants to talk to you."

"Oh, is that all? Well, you should tell him I don't much fancy a chat." Obi-Wan stepped out of Anakin's reach and moved around him and into the 'fresher, scowling at his untidy appearance in the mirror. "You couldn't tell me this last night why?"

Anakin leaned in the doorway of the 'fresher, arms crossed.

"I didn't want to scare you."

Obi-Wan brushed his fingers through his hair. It was getting too long, and there was more grey in it than he remembered. When _was_ the last time he'd properly looked at himself? He found he couldn't recall, and he didn't particularly care.

"I do not fear your new Master, Anakin." _He did._

"Just don't be your usual self around him, all right?"

Obi-Wan cocked an eyebrow at his reflection, feigning levity. "But I'm so pleasant."

Anakin was reflected in the mirror behind him now, frowning. "I'm serious, Obi-Wan. He's..." The eyes of Anakin's reflection narrowed at nothing. "He's dangerous, and I think he wants to punish me."

Obi-Wan turned back around and leaned against the sink. "Are you going to tell me why?" he asked.

Anakin's larynx bobbed as he swallowed, and it took him a few moments to answer.

"For Padmé," he said, and suddenly it was like a floodgate had opened up within the younger man, and he was baring himself completely to his former mentor. "She didn't just leave me, Obi-Wan. I _let_ her go. After she humiliated Palpatine in front of the entire Senate. He said he wasn't going to kill her, but when those guards aimed their blasters at her, I... I didn't even hesitate in cutting them down." He smoothed a hand through anxious curls, mussing them up even more. "I saw the fear in her eyes. How repulsed she was by me. She even _stabbed_ me, and I let her go. Does that make me weak?"

Obi-Wan slowly allowed the wave of new information to process, taking his time to reply as Anakin watched him with wide eyes.

"Are you saying you wish you had killed her?" he finally asked.

"No!" Anakin rocked his head back and forth, disgusted by the idea. "I could never kill her, but I should have been stronger. I should have made her stay with me." His eyes sparked. "She was the only reason I joined Palpatine, and with her gone I'm beginning to question why I continue on this path."

The admission hung heavy in the air between them, like a bomb about to drop.

"You don't have to," Obi-Wan's voice was soft, careful. He moved up and placed his hand on Anakin's shoulder. "You can turn from the Dark, Anakin, and embrace the Light once more. It is not too late."

A harsh laugh seared across his nerves, and the tips of Obi-Wan's fingers tingled where they touched Anakin. He tugged them back, but not quick enough to escape Anakin's hand grabbing his, and forcibly entwining their fingers together.

Anakin watched Obi-Wan from beneath long lashes. "You misunderstand, Master. I may question it, but I will not leave it. I can't. Not after what I've done." He cocked his head to the side, keeping their hands firmly locked together. "It's too late for me."

Obi-Wan's mind whirled back to all the Jedi he knew of that had ever Fallen. How many of them had been redeemed? Doubt clawed at his heart, for the briefest half of a second, but he quickly pressed it down. If there was one man stubborn and strong enough to pull himself out of the deepest dark, it was Anakin.

He squeezed the palm back, a determined set to his jaw. "It is possible, Anakin."

Anakin regarded him a moment longer, then let his hand go before turning sharply on his heel.

"Let's just get this over with," he said.

**~*~**

Obi-Wan was herded out of the apartment and onto a personal landing bay. He shaded his eyes, letting his ears adjust to the sudden cacophony of city sounds. He quickly took note of his surroundings -- he'd often measured where he was on Coruscant by whether or not he could see the Jedi Temple -- but found nothing in his immediate line of sight that hinted at where on the planet they may be.

He glanced over the ledge at the steep drop below. They were stories above what would be considered the Coruscant Underworld, with little way down other than--

"I hope you're not thinking about jumping off," Anakin said.

Obi-Wan leaned back, wind riffling through his hair. "Where are we?"

"Coruscant," Anakin replied, holding the airspeeder's passenger door open for Obi-Wan. "And don't ask about the Jedi Temple. We're nowhere near it."

Obi-Wan slid into the seat, keeping quiet as Anakin closed the door and walked around to the other side.

The familiar nausea that always twisted through his gut when any craft lifted off pulsed and faded through Obi-Wan. It was something that he'd learned to live with, and he found it oddly comforting after weeks spent grounded. He kept his eyes transfixed on the dense traffic and spacescrapers passing by them.

"Shouldn't I be blindfolded or something?"

Anakin, who always seemed too at ease in the air for Obi-Wan's liking, scrunched his face up. _"What?_ Why?"

"I'll be able to figure out exactly where we were," Obi-Wan explained.

Anakin shrugged, lazily throwing an arm over the back of their seats, "You don't need to bother. I'll tell you exactly where we are and where we're going, if you ask me nicely."

"Where are we going, then?" asked Obi-Wan, feeling his stomach rise to his throat as they descended.

"The Palace District."

Obi-Wan had suspected the Chancellor's Suite in the Senate Building, but this new information wasn't too shocking. There were too many eyes in the Senate, and he wasn't exactly an unknown man. The revelation that a Jedi Master yet lived would certainly cause a stir, which made Palpatine wanting to see him all the more... confusing.

He mulled the thoughts over in silence, until Anakin spoke up.

"I've thought of another reason why I should stay on this path. Want to hear it?"

Obi-Wan stiffened. "Hardly, but I know you'll tell me anyway."

"I can learn to keep those I care about from dying." Anakin smiled sidelong at him.

A heavy weight settled in Obi-Wan's gut when Anakin said that, and it wasn't from being airborne.

"And am I to presume Palpatine filled your head with that sort of nonsense?"

Anakin's hands tightened around the steering wheel as the car lifted and turned into the next skylane.

"It isn't nonsense, Obi-Wan. He's knowledgeable. He can teach me how to reverse death--"

"--with the Dark Side."

Anakin rolled his eyes. " _Yes,_ with the Dark Side. Is it really so terrible, when used for the greater good?"

"The greater good is keeping a select few alive then, is it?" Obi-Wan scoffed and shook his head. "It's puerile. Allow me to die when my time comes."

"Your time already did come," Anakin said, darkly. "And I didn't let you die. I won't ever let you die, Master. I have the ability to never let that happen to anyone I care about ever again."

Obi-Wan leaned back in his seat and hunched his shoulders, suddenly too aware of the chill of the day. "Death is will of the Force, Anakin."

Now it was Anakin's turn to scoff. "Would you have said that if you could have kept Qui-Gon alive?"

Old guilt surfaced in Obi-Wan's mind, clawing at the backs of his eyes, and he didn't answer.

"I'm sorry," Anakin backtracked, when he saw the look on Obi-Wan's face. "I shouldn't have said that."

"You're right. You shouldn't have," Obi-Wan replied harshly.

Anakin frowned, silent apologies still sparking along their link.

"I just don't want to lose anyone else, Obi-Wan. I know you can understand that."

"You truly don't see the hypocrisy in that, do you? You're chauffeuring me to my likely death."

Anakin's frown tightened into a scowl, and his eyes flared a furious crimson-gold.

"I promise I won't let you get hurt."

Obi-Wan didn't believe that for a moment.

**~*~**

Obi-Wan had few chances to visit the Palace of the Republic before, but he remembered how imposing it had looked from the Temple Precinct.

Proximity only made things worse.

The huge bulk of monads and spacescapers towered like a titan over their tiny transport. It was so humongous, in fact, that it's sheer size left half the lane they traveled on in shadow.

Anakin didn't say a word as they entered an out-of-the-way docking ledge. The hustle and bustle that regularly surrounded this area didn't seem to touch here, and they weren't hassled in the slightest as they disembarked and made their way to the center of the grand building.

They took the first turbolift they found, and Anakin clicked the button that would take them directly to Palpatine's new office. It included two passcodes and a keycard to start.

"Why should the ruler of the known galaxy need to be so paranoid?" Obi-Wan asked, hoping Anakin would raise to the bait and say _something._

He didn't, and that surprised Obi-Wan most of all. It took a lot to render Anakin mute.

The lift door slid open to reveal a room that was much less large and grand than Obi-Wan had expected. However, it was certainly imposing. Palpatine sat in a throne on an elevated platform, accessible only by a small staircase on the floor. A circular window behind him bathed the room in the natural orange light of the Coruscanti sunset.

Obi-Wan couldn't make out much of the former Chancellor when he was brought to a halt at the base of the staircase. Palpatine abandoned the opulent outfit of the Chancellor's office in favor of a simple, black robe and hood that made him blend in with his chair.

What Obi-Wan could see of his face was obscured, though it looked pale. _Too_ pale.

An equally white hand lifted up from the swathe of black and beckoned to them.

"Bring the Jedi before me." The voice that emanated from him was raspy and brittle, like sand paper against Obi-Wan's ears. It was at once alike and completely unlike the voice of the Chancellor that he recalled.

Obi-Wan took a small step back towards Anakin, immediately defensive. A surreptitious hand at his back kept him from moving any further.

"Yes, my Master," Anakin said, and gave Obi-Wan a gentle nudge to begin walking up the staircase.

"Not you, Lord Vader," Palpatine intoned. "My guards shall bring him forward."

Obi-Wan looked to Anakin, whose face had contorted into furious acceptance as he took a step back. He clasped his hands behind his back, legs spread wide, and stood at attention. The only hint of his anger came from the deep lines at the corners of his frown, and his eyes. They were shot through with cracks of gold, and looked intently into Obi-Wan's before turned up towards Palpatine.

Two of the Royal Guards, which stood on either side of the throne like twin maroon statues, made their way down the staircase to Obi-Wan. One grabbed his upper arm, the other his shoulder, and guided him roughly up to the foot of the throne.

As he neared, Palpatine slowly moved his hands up to slide back the cowl covering his face. His repulsive, warped visage reminded Obi-Wan of a grub pocking itself out of black earth.

"Chancellor. You're looking well." Obi-Wan stood with his chin up and a defiant smirk on his face.

Palpatine's face twitched into what may have been a smile in return.

"As well as your pitiful Order," he said, and gave one languid flick of his wrist. The two Royal Guards forced Obi-Wan to his knees with little preamble, and he hit the hard metal with a sharp thunk. His head was also pushed down with one hand behind his ears, craning his neck painfully.

"There," Palpatine said, with obvious relish. "Now you are where you belong, Jedi."

**~*~**

Obi-Wan was aware of merciless eyes assessing him, cataloging each and every part of him that they could see. It made his skin prickle.

But it wasn't until Force tendrils began to creep into his mind, poking and prodding and probing, that fear began to trickle into him like frigid drops of water. Obi-Wan reinforced his mental shields, and noticed in the back of his mind that Anakin did the same, supplying a small, surreptitious amount of strength through their bond.

Obi-Wan wasn't sure if he should be grateful, or worried.

Palpatine's Force fingers continued to stroke along the solid walls they met, leisurely and feather-gentle, which only served to heighten Obi-Wan's apprehension. There was a blow to come, he knew it, but the Sith Lord seemed entertained enough with this almost-invasion.

The unhurried presence pulled itself out of Obi-Wan's mind, and he exhaled a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding as Palpatine rose from his seat.

"My apprentice didn't even cuff you." Palpatine clicked his tongue. "How forgetful."

Obi-Wan strained against the hand holding his head down. "It's a bit foolish to cuff a one-armed man, wouldn't you say?"

That awarded him the bare beginnings of a chuckle, and Palpatine silently gestured his guards away. Obi-Wan immediately tilted his chin upwards, staring straight into buggy eyes beneath a heavy brow that didn't seem to be focusing on him at all.

"Humour is a fool's response to terror," sneered Palpatine, stopping a step away from Obi-Wan. He inclined his head down, and the intrusive presence in Obi-Wan mind returned, and snapped at his shields with a startling strength. It caught Obi-Wan by surprise, enough so that a hairline fracture cracked along his shielding.

Palpatine began to slip through, purposefully slow, and that triggered a brief, irrational panic in Obi-Wan. His eyes shot closed and his breath came out short and harsh as he hastily reconstructed his shields.

He felt Anakin add to them to, and he knew that Palpatine sensed him do so as well. A cruel intention slithered across Obi-Wan's mind, probing painfully at his bond with Anakin like it was open wound.

"Interesting..." Palpatine crept along the connection. "So, you're still bonded. Perhaps I should show my apprentice how foolish keeping that from me was."

A ferocious attack stabbed through the bond, and before Obi-Wan had a moment to think, before he could realise that this was _exactly_ what Palpatine wanted, he reacted with the same self-sacrificing protectiveness he always gave those he cared for.

He slammed the link shut before Palpatine could reach through it to Anakin.

And his shields fell apart like wet paper, all but inviting the Sith Lord in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *A monad is a self-contained building complex in the SW universe


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same warnings as last chapter apply, if not more so
> 
> Enjoy~

A scream erupted from of the bowels of Obi-Wan's throat, cut short by a Force barrier trapping the sound behind his teeth.

"Struggle as much as you like, Jedi," Palpatine murmured, the corners of his lips crooking up with an easy sort of cruelty as he pressed a bloated palm against Obi-Wan's head, twisting into his hair. "I mean to enjoy this."

Cold, clammy fingers dug into Obi-Wan's scalp.

Obi-Wan gasped, his heart beating so quickly that the pulse point in his throat began to ache. Palpatine's toxic presence slid through his mind unhindered -- through his _memories_ \-- riving and ripping his way through them. He laughed at each and every thing that had ever caused Obi-Wan misery, and forced him live through them all once, twice, and over and _over_ and _over **again**._

_He laughed as Obi-Wan wailed over a dead Qui-Gon, his last touch on his face like a burning brand._

_As he tried desperately to staunch the blood drenching Cerasi with unpracticed hands._

_As Siri gripped his hand, and with her last breath told him she would always be with him._

_As he was hauled away from Satine's cooling body, unable to comprehend that he hadn't saved her._

_As he stared down Anakin on Mustafar._

_As he held Anakin close, and told him he loved him back._

Palpatine's cackle seared through Obi-Wan's mind, relentless and unforgiving as the Sith Lord sifted through his most intimate thoughts like a tick burrowing through skin.

He finally pulled back for one thankful moment, and Obi-Wan realised that he was weeping, clutching at his chest with shaking fingers. How long had he been trapped in his own worst memories? Minutes? _Hours?_ It had felt like a lifetime.

**[By quadrupedum](quadrupedum.tumblr.com) **

His teeth were clenched, shallow breaths pushing themselves out from between them.

The Emperor's voice (for when he'd ventured through Obi-Wan's mind, he'd left the title stamped everywhere. Like a signature. It was the only thing Obi-Wan could _think_ ) was like oil sliding through his ears, frigid and slick.

"You may beg me to stop now, Kenobi," he said.

Obi-Wan's tongue laid thick and heavy in his mouth, but he was able to muster a vehement, _"Kriff you."_

The Emperor smiled toothlessly at him as he prized open his mind once more, plunging back in with a vengeance.

"What would hurt most, I wonder?" the Emperor sighed.

He forced a slurry of Obi-Wan's memories through the Jedi Master's mind, taking his time. When he finally spoke again, Obi-Wan could hear obvious glee in his voice. 

"Your brethren died horrible deaths, Kenobi."

A Force-strengthened image flashed through Obi-Wan mind, thrust in deep and fast by the Sith Lord--

 _Master Fisto, Master Kolar, Master Tiin, all brought down by a Sith-red lightsaber. Obi-Wan could feel the push against his hand as the plasma blade sliced through flesh. It felt like_ he _was the one killing them... **it felt good.**_

He was vaguely aware of a horrible voice, echoing in his ears. His whole body jerked, muscles tense and quaking, neck corded.

"Ah, but the best!" the Sith Lord jeered.

And then he saw--

 _he saw Master Windu standing above him, his violet lightsaber poised to strike. Suddenly, Anakin appeared, bringing his own down upon him. Mace's eyes widen in shock and pain, and Obi-Wan knew how it felt, how it must_ **hurt** _as Mace's hand and 'saber go careening in the wind_. _A cackle escaped him, only it was not his voice. Not his mouth nor mirth. He lifted up his hands, fingers splayed wide, and electricity shot from them and into the wounded Jedi. Mace screamed, convulsed, and was propelled straight out of the shattered viewport and down into the belting rain below..._

Obi-Wan surfaced, but only for a moment. His throat was thick with sobs and--

 _and_ _Anakin knelt before him, eyes afraid as he inclined his head and pronounced his allegiance to the Sith, and Obi-Wan can hear himself speaking in the Emperor's scratchy drawl,_

 _"Henceforth you shall be known as Darth.._ _._ Vader"

_Anakin raised his head, and his eyes are golden as the sun, and just as painful to look upon. It tore Obi-Wan's heart apart. He should have been there, he should have protected him, he should..._

"No more," Obi-Wan pleaded, his entire body shaking. "No more, no more."

His pleas would have been better suited on deaf ears. They only spurred the Sith Lord on, giddy contempt dripping from his touch as memory after terrible memory was rammed into Obi-Wan unprotected mind--

_Yoda, falling before him in the deserted Senate Dome, and the feel of it as the aged Jedi Master's lightsaber was shattered by his own hand..._

_...walking amidst the smoldering ruins of the Jedi Temple,_ _the dead carpeting the ground..._

_...so_ much _**death**..._

"And now you see." The Emperor's relentless onslaught subsided as he ran a knobbly knuckle down Obi-Wan's cheek. The gentle caress made the younger man want to retch, but it was light-years better than having the Sith's vile touch in his mind. "The Jedi were weak, and deserving of the fate the Force granted them."

The Emperor's hand moved down to cup Obi-Wan's chin and force it up. The sickly pale face was but a breath away from Obi-Wan, and half-lidded eyes looked on him with a mocking sympathy.

It was like staring into the very visage of the Dark Side.

"But you survived. I always suspected there to be something... different about you." A thumb rubbed into the hairless space just below his lips. "You defeated my first apprentice. You had a hand in Dooku's death, albeit a minuscule one. You even killed Grievous, and it was thanks to your negligence that Skywalker fell so easily into my grasp..." he regarded Obi-Wan with an amused look when the younger man bared his teeth at him. "You have such delicious anger within you, Kenobi. Why not give into it? _Why not join us?"_

Obi-Wan jerked against his grasp.

"I would rather _die,_ " he snarled.

The Emperor faked a disappointed sigh, and the grandfatherly facade slid away as easily as water. "Not quite yet, Jedi," he said. His eyes moved up to look over Obi-Wan's shoulder, and his features danced with refined bloodlust. "You may yet prove useful to me. Why-" he leaned in close, as if sharing a secret with Obi-Wan. "Now when I take his children from him, my apprentice will have you to _love_ and obsess over."

Obi-Wan eyes widened.

"No..."

" _Yes,_ Jedi. You shall serve me well as a pet to hold over Skywalker's head, until even you will no longer matter to him."

Obi-Wan's fear. His anger and, indeed, his _hatred_ of this man-- this _thing,_ boiled over. His mind went blank, and he moved without thinking.

"NO!" he screamed, and began to stand, intending to ram his entire weight into the smaller man. He would kill him, _strangle him with his bare hands if he had to._

The Emperor cackled. Obi-Wan wasn't thinking straight, he realised too late, as the Force took hold of him and slammed him back down. His mind was unshielded; his strongest emotions on display for all to see.

And what was more obvious then the pure, unbridled urge to _kill?_

He heard a scuffle behind him. Was that Anakin? He couldn't tell. He didn't care. All his thoughts were focused on the dark creature before him.

The Emperor grinned as he struggled.

"You would like to kill me, wouldn't you, Kenobi? _Good._ " Obi-Wan felt the pressure holding him down cease, and Palpatine spread his arms wide, _still smiling._ "Let your hate guide you."

Obi-Wan could already feel a sharp sting as if the skin of his knuckles was cracked, and he heaved himself up to slam his fist into the Emperor's face. The man laughed, his eyes a pale, sulfurous yellow.

_"Give into it."_

Obi-Wan tightened his fist for the blow, insensible with fury, but something stayed his hand. A quiet urging in the back of his mind told him to stop, and he hesitated. His rage began to fade, and he numbly remembered that acting upon it would gain him _nothing._

It still bubbled hotly in his mind. He couldn't release it into the Force, but even without that, he was _still_ a Jedi. The thought gave him strength, but it wasn't apparent in the sob-choked murmur of his voice.

"I won't," he whispered, stumbling back. "You will not make me hurt you."

He tried to think of the reason why again, but his thoughts were congealed and clotted, and concentrating too hard sent a shooting pain through his head. The Emperor hadn't just forced his way into his mind; he'd mangled whatever he'd touched, leaving a path of destruction in his wake.

_Because you are a Jedi. You are a Jedi. A Jedi._

His heel hung over the first step down, and he took it.

The Emperor's smile turned into a sneer, rotting teeth bared.

"A weakling's response."

His mind hurt just trying to think of a retort, and Obi-Wan swayed as he stepped back again.

"I _will not,"_ he said, voice hitching like a child's.

"Not _yet._ " The Emperor tilted his head, frowning. "Grab him."

The two statuesque Royal Guards suddenly surged forward from either side Sidious' throne, grasping him. Obi-Wan fought back, but he was weak and he knew it. He could barely keep himself from being pulled back onto the dais, and when a punch to the gut sent him sprawling to the ground, he could barely keep himself conscious.

Pain exploded into fireworks behind his eyes as one of the guard's boots came down hard against his sternum, and Obi-Wan felt his heart stutter in his chest from the hit.

"Anakin..." he strained, panic raising bile in his throat. _" Anakin..!"_

**_"Stop."_ **

A tall, dark form caught the arm of one guard and hauled him away from Obi-Wan, throwing him bodily away with a sharp growl. Anakin stood over him.

The other, the one that had brought his foot down on Obi-Wan, was caught in a Force choke, and Anakin crushed the sides of their throat until they slumped forward with a gurgle. He flicked the corpse aside like garbage, already leaning down to pull Obi-Wan back up.

One strong arm circled his waist, pulling Obi-Wan tight against Anakin. Obi-Wan made a soft noise of dissent, but his adrenaline was already fading, leaving him feeling hollow and oh, so tired.

He sagged against Anakin as the taller man half-walked, half-carried him back onto the dais. He kept a wide berth from the other Sith Lord.

**[By profdrlachfinger](http://profdrlachfinger.tumblr.com/) **

The Emperor had watched the entire exchange with disinterest. His refulgent eyes didn't even glance at his Royal Guards.

"Bring him to me," he said.

Obi-Wan pressed further into Anakin, mad with fear.

"No, Anakin, no. Please, don't let him near me again. Please...please..."

The Emperor crooked one gnarled finger at them both.

"Bring him, _my_ apprentice."

A familiar curtain of rage threatened to drop and smother Obi-Wan as Anakin yanked their bond back together. The Force ebbed back into him slowly, _painfully_.

"No. You _lied,_ " Anakin growled, even as he began to attempt to soothe Obi-Wan through their bond.

"You risk running afoul of my good graces, Lord Vader. Do not forget who your Master is," The Emperor hissed back, yet there was a jovial look on his scarred face. He was _enjoying_ this; gaining strength from it. "I have not killed him, have I?"

"I should kill _you_."

 _"Anakin,"_ the Emperor crooned, softly. "Before you do, I would like to know. Were you aware the man you are protecting _knew_ your wife was going to leave you?"

Their bond narrowed into an apoplectic point. "What?" Anakin snarled.

The Emperor's eyes blazed like burning brass. "I told you he would tear your family apart. Would you like to see?"

Obi-Wan felt Anakin let out a shaky breath, and his chin bobbed against Obi-Wan's neck as he nodded.

Anakin stiffened. Obi-Wan felt the change, as the hands that had only a moment before been attempting to comfort him grabbed hard at his shoulders. Anakin leaned his face into his hair, whispering harshly into Obi-Wan's ear.

 _"You knew,"_ he said, hurt and fury in the two simple words, and then he was steering Obi-Wan toward the eager Emperor.

"Good, my apprentice." Sticking a thin-wristed hand into the folds of his cloak, the Emperor produced what could only be his lightsaber. He ignited it, the blood-red blade bathing his ghastly face in deep crimson shadows. " _Good."_

The Emperor smirked at Obi-Wan, spittle shining in the corners of his mouth. He brought the edge of his lightsaber to the younger man's neck, just close enough for the superheated plasma to begin to burn the soft skin.

Anakin kept him firmly still against his chest, and Obi-Wan could feel the rapid patter of his heart. 

"I don't want him dead," Anakin said, his voice firm and cold.

The Emperor kept his blade where it was a moment longer, before clicking it off. The fiery beam blinked away, searing a line across Obi-Wan's throat that immediately began to welt.

"I will be kind, Lord Vader," The Emperor said. "I shall let you decide his fate."

Anakin inclined his head, rage churning in their bond. "Thank you, my Master."

"And you," sighing, the Emperor glided up to Obi-Wan. The Jedi Master turned his face aside, as far away as he could possibly move, but the Emperor moved it back not ungently with a strong press of the Force.

The razor edges of fear in him dulled to blunt corners of despair, and Obi-Wan looked silently at him, eyes glassed over as he struggled limply against Anakin's hold.

The Emperor's nails brushed lightly down Obi-Wan's face, over his lips. "You suffer prettily, Jedi."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The fact that everyone Obi-Wan has ever cared for has died in his arms really tickles my angst bone
> 
> *Cerasi was Obi-Wan's Melida Bae on Melida/Daan. She got shot.
> 
> *Siri Tachi was Obi-Wan's fellow Jedi Bae . She died in his arms, after /also/ being shot in the early months of the Clone War.
> 
> *Qui-Gon Jinn was Obi-Wan's Jedi Master Bae (at least in this fic. Quiobi all the way, baby). He was stabbed by Darth Maul, and died in Obi-Wan's arms.
> 
> *Satine Kryze was Obi-Wan's Padme Parallel Bae. She was also stabbed by Darth Maul, because there really isn't anything as fun as fucking with a dude that has a strong moral discipline. I mean, you couldn't pull that shit with Anakin. I think that really explains why people like Obi-Wan. You can kick him till he's down, but at the end of the day he'll never fall...*she says as she inhales every Sith!Obi-Wan fic she can find*
> 
> *Kriff means fuck, like always. I love that word.
> 
> *Did you know Palps actually broke Yoda's lightsaber in canon? Dumb move. At least keep it as a trophy.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan and Anakin return home. Things take a turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spicy.
> 
> Enjoy~

Those parting words served as a dismissal, or perhaps Anakin simply decided to leave. Obi-Wan wasn't sure. All he knew was that one moment he was staring down the Sith-yellow eyes of the Emperor, and the next he was standing in the turbolift with Anakin as it descended.

The younger man's eyes were a fiery gold limned with red, not quite the same as the Emperor's, but close enough that Obi-Wan couldn't make himself meet his gaze.

"You told her to leave me." Anger flared in their newly re-attached bond, severe and sharp. "She would have stayed if you'd asked her to. Why didn't you?"

Anakin leaned in closer to him, resting a hand on the turbolift wall beside his head, and Obi-Wan fought to keep himself from crumpling from the sheer weight of Anakin's presence in the Force. It was difficult when the only thing keeping him upright was the transparisteel behind him.

"Do you want me to be alone, is that it?" Anakin demanded, harshly. "You've always been jealous of what I have. You can't stand to see me happy can you, Obi-Wan? Can you? _Answer me."_

Obi-Wan shut his eyes. He didn't want to think. Even trying to build barriers in his mind against the onslaught of Anakin's emotions left him dizzy. It felt like his skin was vibrating, buzzing, _pulsating._

"You were hurting her," he finally said, abandoning any superfluous wording for the plain, simple truth.

The Force seethed around them.

"I wasn't hurting her. I was trying to _help_ her!" Anakin snapped.

"It was dangerous for her." Obi-Wan blinked sluggishly, his vision hazing in and out. "Even you could see that."

"I could have _protected_ her. I wouldn't have allowed anything to happen to her, but instead she lied to me. Left me. _You_ lied to me." Anakin's eyes flicked around as he remembered. It was disturbing to know he was remembering one of _Obi-Wan's_ own memories that the Emperor had shown him. "But you won't leave me. I won't allow it."

The lift settled and chimed just as he said that, and when the doors parted open Anakin gave them one furious glance before grasping Obi-Wan's bicep and hauling him out.

Obi-Wan didn't protest.

**~*~**

Anakin flew the speeder like he had a death wish, weaving through the nighttime traffic, in and out, over and under, eyes trained ahead of him as he spoke.

Obi-Wan didn't hear most of it.

"I should never have told her that you lived. This was... are you even listening to me?" Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan mid-rant to find the older man with his forehead pressed against the dashboard. His anger slowly ebbed into a much stronger emotion: fear.

"Don't ignore me. Obi-Wan!" Anakin demanded, reaching out to grab his shoulder and shake it. When Obi-Wan didn't shy away from his touch, Anakin's apprehension only grew.

"...Obi-Wan?" he repeated, in a less caustic tone.

Obi-Wan finally lifted his head up, eyes cloudy and distance. It took almost too long for him to meet Anakin's gaze.

"Hm?" he said, barely audible.

"What's wrong with you?" Anakin inspected him through the Force. Aside from pain radiating around his chest and neck, Obi-Wan appeared physically fine.

When Anakin moved to his mind, however, he was met with a wall of anguish.

Anakin blinked at it, eyes widening as tears began to dribble from Obi-Wan's eyes. The rivulets became a cascade, and Obi-Wan doubled over as if in intense pain.

"I think I'm going to be sick," he finally sputtered out.

**~*~**

They made it to and off the landing platform in record time, with Obi-Wan nearly falling flat on his face as Anakin let them back into the apartment. He stumbled towards the 'fresher without so much as another word.

It was a delayed reaction to what had happened, and it hit him with a vengeance.

Anakin hovered in the doorway of the 'fresher, fretful and quiet, his anger forgotten, as Obi-Wan retched up what little he had left in his stomach.

When he finally leaned away with a last, dry hack, Anakin was already sitting on his haunches beside him. He had a towel in one hand, wiping gently at Obi-Wan's face, while the other rubbed soothing circles between his shaking shoulders. Concern was etched across his fair features.

"...Better?"

Anakin sent a tiny questing finger through their bond, only to be met with the damage the Emperor had caused. Just that small touch alone caused the nausea to rise in Obi-Wan once more, and he fell forward again to heave into the porcelain bowel.

"D-don't." he gasped, eyes stinging. "Get out."

"Obi-Wan--"

"I said get the **fuck** out!" Obi-Wan shouted, swatting Anakin away. He didn't understand where this excessive anger was coming from -- it wasn't _him --_ but he couldn't stop it.

Anakin stared at him wide-eyed like he was about to say something, but didn't. He stepped out of the small room instead, letting the door slide shut behind him.

Obi-Wan stay sprawled on the tile for some time, letting himself settle. It didn't work. With each strained, deep breath came two small, pained hiccups, and his beard was soaked through with tears. _He couldn't stop crying._

He pulled himself up, knees shaking and weak, and leaned over the sink. He twisted the faucet on and leaned down, washing his mouth and beard out. He grabbed the towel Anakin had abandoned and mopped at his face with a clean corner, throwing it down in a moist heap before daring to look at himself in the mirror.

A flash of golden eyes. Rotted, yellow teeth. _The Emperor was staring back at him._

Obi-Wan pushed himself away with a violent cry. That violating touch was on his mind again, twisting _, taking,_ and darkness clung to him like sweat. Clawed fingers dragged down his face again, over his clothing... it was _horrible._

He tore off the cream-coloured tunic, throwing it as far away from him as he could. His hand stopped at the wrappings crossing his chest. He wanted to tear them off, too. Peel skin from flesh from bone until he wouldn't feel that _terrible_ touch anymore.

But he stopped himself. He pulled his hand back and rubbed at his face instead, smearing tears across his cheeks. He took one breath, in and out. Then two, in and out, in and out. He repeated the shortened version of the Jedi Code in his mind as he did so, something he always did in times of great distress. Even now, it succeeded in calming him by the tiniest of margins.

_Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force._

Obi-Wan finally looked at his reflection in the mirror again, and this time it was him and _only_ him. With bleary, swollen, wild eyes, and mussed auburn hair. He looked half-mad.

_Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force._

Running his hand through his beard, Obi-Wan staggered toward the door and palmed it open.

Anakin was standing right outside, and he rushed forward as soon as Obi-Wan stepped out. His hands moved up towards Obi-Wan, but they stopped midway in the air. After a moment of deliberation, Anakin let them drop.

"How do you feel?" Anakin finally asked.

"Cold." Obi-Wan shook, rubbing a trembling hand up and down what remained of his other arm. He wished he could hold himself.

Anakin quickly shrugged off his dark cloak, throwing it over Obi-Wan's smaller shoulders. He halted a moment, before wrapping a tentative arm around him as well, and Obi-Wan let himself be cradled close. He didn't have it in him to fight it.

"I...I shouldn't have yelled at you in the lift. I shouldn't have even taken you there. I didn't know he would do something like this," Anakin said. He sounded like he'd been planning out what he would say. "You believe me... right?"

He looked down at Obi-Wan for confirmation, but the older man had nothing left to give. Obi-Wan felt wrung-out, empty, and every blink brought back flashes and sensations of what the Emperor had shown him. Of what he had taken.

Anakin's eyebrows furrowed in worry, but he didn't press Obi-Wan further. He just stepped closer and ducked his face close to his. Obi-Wan could hear him swallow.

"I'll never let him hurt you again. I swear it. Never again."

Anakin moved up and rested his chin on the top of Obi-Wan's head for awhile, closing his eyes and attempting to assuage some of the crippling fear radiating around them.

"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan," he murmured, and meant it.

Something shifted before Obi-Wan. For a moment, it wasn't the Sith Lord pretending to be another before him, but Anakin. His flawed, compassionate friend. _Someone he loved._

_Someone he'd allowed to be hurt._

His breath became ragged and he pressed his face into Anakin's chest, fingers clawing at the smoothness of his tabard.

Anakin made gentle hushing sounds at him, but Obi-Wan could hear his heart pounding in his chest like a drum. Obi-Wan was scaring him, but he needed to say this. It was building up inside him, threatening to tear him apart. He realised it had been for a long time; long before he'd been taken before the Emperor.

"I failed you, Anakin," Obi-Wan huffed into the tunic, a sob building deep in his chest. Memory flashed in his mind. Of Anakin, terrified, _alone,_ bowing before the Emperor... of the years before, when the Chancellor had shown such interest in him. Interest Obi-Wan should have seen as the warning that it was. " I allowed that monster to get close to you. I was too blind to see him for what he was. I should have protected you, as a proper Master would have. As Qui-Gon would have." Sorrow clutched at his throat. _"I'm sorry."_

__

[By quadrupedum](http://quadrupedum.tumblr.com)

Anakin looked completely at a loss for what to do. That was only natural, though. Even as he wept against him, a part of Obi-Wan could see that clearly. He didn't know how to handle something like this. He'd never seen Obi-Wan in true distress.

There was a hand between his shoulders, patting it gently.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin said, shakier than usual. More unsure. "You haven't failed me. Come on."

Obi-Wan allowed himself to be led to the end of the bed, and he didn't so much sit on it as sag down, rubbing at his swollen eyes with the heel of his palm. Anakin sat down beside him, a hand firmly attached to his back like he feared Obi-Wan would fall over if he let go.

Obi-Wan stared at his knees, not really seeing them.

"I'm so sorry, Anakin. I'm so, so sorry..." The words trailed off to a strengthless half moan. It was taking all his strength to not break down right there. "You deserved better than me. You needed better than..."

"Shhhh," Anakin pressed Obi-Wan's head against the curve of his shoulder. His long fingers brushed his hair out of his face. "Do you love me, Obi-Wan?"

Unable to form the words, Obi-Wan simply nodded.

An odd smile tugged at Anakin's lips, and his eyes were a dark amber, not quite gold but not quite blue. "And I love you too. That's all that matters, okay? Qui-Gon would be proud of you, I know it." He pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan's forehead, long and lingering. Then he pulled back. "You can cry if you need to."

So Obi-Wan did.

**~*~**

He didn't know how long he sat there crying with Anakin silently holding him, but as his sobbing slowly faded into quiet, sniffling hiccups, Anakin let him go to lay back on the bed. Obi-Wan kept himself cocooned in Anakin's dark cloak as his boots were pulled off for him, and then Anakin stood up with an unreadable expression on his face.

"I'll leave you alone," he said, and turned to leave.

"No," Obi-Wan croaked out, hoarse and rough. Anakin looked back down at him, not doing a very good job of hiding his surprise. Obi-Wan swallowed around the metallic aftertaste of panic still strong in the back of his throat. "Stay." His voice cracked. _"Please."_

Still watching him with look bordering on shocked, Anakin finally snapped to attention at the pitiful state of that last word. He nodded, stripping off his tunics and jackboots before climbing into the bed. He kept a careful distance between them.

Obi-Wan felt another irrational pulse of fear reverberate through him, and his hand shot out to grab Anakin's. He knew it shook when he tugged, but Anakin didn't hesitate at the silent question. He obediently moved closer.

It had been so long since Obi-Wan had felt safe. Since he'd felt like another person could truly protect him. He thought of Qui-Gon, and his turbulent mind supplied Qui-Gon's lovely face, with that gentle smile and eyes so clear that he could have stared at them forever. It supplied Qui-Gon's scent, incense mingled with sweat, and as Obi-Wan basked it slowly corroded into the stench of charred flesh and wool, like it always did. It was cruel of his mind, to never allow him to remember Qui without that sickening smell.

With his mind flayed raw by the Emperor, it was pure agony.

They'd had so little time together.

Obi-Wan missed him. Even after all these years, the need to see him again; to _feel_ anything close to that, was like thirst in the desert, overwhelming everything else.

The name left his mouth mutely as he craned his neck and pressed his mouth to Anakin's.

It was a chaste kiss, barely a sliding of lips against lips. But as Obi-Wan began to deepen the kiss, Anakin made a small, surprised noise and started to pull away.

Obi-Wan tilted back, one hot breath ghosting along Anakin's skin, and reality returned like a crack to the skull.

"I should not have done that," Obi-Wan said immediately, and moved himself as far back as he could. "I'm sorry."

Anakin just stared at him, pupils blown wide. His fingers moved up to probe at his lips.

"Is... is that really what you want from me?" he asked, his voice curiously soft.

No. Yes? He... he didn't know. Obi-Wan's mind was full of knots, like twisting, intertwining serpents, and he couldn't sort through the mess. He shook his head, but didn't pull himself completely out of Anakin's arms.

He soon fell asleep like that.

**~*~**

It was some time later when Obi-Wan woke up in the same position, legs tangled with Anakin's and cheek stuck to the bare skin of his chest.

Obi-Wan peeled it off with a wince. He felt better than he had, and quietly took stock of himself. Although he could still feel the Emperor's persistent contact in his mind, it was no longer an all-consuming dread that turned his thoughts to dark, unnavigable sludge. He pressed what remained of it behind as strong a mental seal as he could form.

His body was a little less worse for wear, though only by a slim margin. His throat was raw and swollen, his nostrils crusty, and his eyes felt like a weight hung beneath them -- though that was to be expected, after how much he had wept. The recent memory made Obi-Wan cringe; he'd never allowed himself to get into such a state around another person -- not since Qui -- and who knew how Anakin would react now?

His mind ventured back unbidden to his lips pressed to Anakin's, chapped and warm and---

Sith kriffing hells, he needed to stop.

He focused back on himself. He had a bit of a headache, though it was less of an ache and more like wads of cotton had settled in his skull. It made everything seem nearly like a dream.

His chest definitely made up for it, however. It throbbed with any small movement, hurting much more than it should from dry heaving. He suspected it was a lasting gift from the beating he'd had at the hands of the Emperor's guards. How fitting.

The word 'Emperor' curled through his mind longer than it should have, bringing with it an ache deep in his chest that wasn't from the bruises. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed it away, echoing old Jedi adages in his mind until it faded.

Anakin's comm chirped sharply, and Obi-Wan felt the shift in Anakin's breathing as the hand on his head moved to fumble around in the sheets behind him.

The chirping grew more insistent, and with an annoyed grunt Anakin leaned up on his forearm to peer over Obi-Wan's shoulder. The comm must have been on the floor, or far enough away that Anakin would have needed to get up to grab it. His face twisted even further into irritation before settling into slight concentration, and he held out his palm.

Obi-Wan heard slight rustling behind him, and a moment later the small comm unit floated into Anakin's hand. Anakin rolled onto his back and answered it, one arm still wrapped beneath Obi-Wan's shoulders.

"This better be important. Yes?" Anakin's eyes narrowed in infuriation. " _Yes,_ this is Vader. Who else would it be?"

The voice on the other line chattered in a low buzz, and the look of fury never left Anakin's face. His durasteel fingers tightened around the tiny unit.

"Tell him he can kriff off. If he has any issue with that, he has other ways to contact me."

When the voice continued to speak, Anakin cut it off sharply.

"Do not contact me on this unit again today, is that understood?...Emergency? I'm sure you're more than equipped to handle yourself for a single day even if an emergency does arise, Commander. Do **_not_** contact me again."

The voice was still speaking when Anakin flicked the unit shut, and crushed the middle in his durasteel hand. He let out an annoyed breath and tossed what remained across the room, before curling his other arm back around Obi-Wan and burying his face in his hair.

"Are you feeling any better?" Anakin asked.

"A little," Obi-Wan admitted.

"And your mind?"

Obi-Wan didn't answer immediately, and Anakin gave him a questioning squeeze. Obi-Wan wriggled at that, squirming downwards to get out of the loop of limbs, only succeeding in entangling himself further.

"I believe it's better," Obi-Wan finally said, feeling Anakin's foot brush against his own. "But I'd rather not find out at the moment."

Anakin loosened his hold just a bit. "Fair enough," he said.

Suddenly, the feeling of a mouth against his ear.

"Want to talk about how you kissed me, then?" Anakin asked, playfully.

A feeling beside a hollow hopelessness descended on Obi-Wan. Irritation. _Embarrassment._ He tried to shake Anakin loose, pulling his body away only to be dragged back into his arms the next moment.

"Let me go, Anakin. Right now."

Anakin did. "I'm irritating you, aren't I?"

Obi-Wan nodded furiously, and with a sigh Anakin pulled himself out of the bed.

"Fine. I'll check on you in a bit."

It was only after he'd pattered out that Obi-Wan realised he was still wrapped in Anakin's cloak. He tucked it up tighter around him.

**~*~**

The next time Anakin came in, barely two hours later, he asked Obi-Wan if he wanted to get up. Obi-Wan openly ignored him.

The second time, only about thirty minutes after the first, Obi-Wan roughly told him to get out, and then openly ignored him again.

The third time, Anakin just wouldn't leave.

"Obi-Wan, I need to heal you," Anakin coaxed. "Will you at least get up for that?"

Obi-Wan's eyes flashed upwards, but he didn't a utter a word.

"If you don't, I'll have to come on there and do it."

He still didn't answer.

With a sigh, Anakin moved onto the bed, grabbing at his shoulder to make him turn. When Obi-Wan resisted his gentle pressure, Anakin applied a touch of the Force to complete the maneuver, and then knelt astride him.

"Is this really necessary?" Obi-Wan gave him a half-hearted glare, and Anakin smiled down at him in return.

"The healing? Yes. The straddling is more of a perk. Now, hold still."

"I don't need you to heal me."

"Does it hurt?" Anakin asked.

Obi-Wan squinted up at him before muttering, "Yes."

"Then you need me to heal you. It'll only take a moment and then I'll get off. Unless, of course..." Anakin paused, and smiling broadly. He rolled his hips once against Obi-Wan's belly, a silent proposal. "You don't want me to."

"I most definitely want you to," Obi-Wan answered flatly, and he turned his head to the side. "Get on with it, then."

He could hear the disappointment in Anakin's voice. "Yes, Master."

Anakin brushed his fingers along Obi-Wan's chest and collarbone. Harsh bruises were already blooming on the pale skin, and they stung when Anakin pressed his hands down on them.

The soft press of Force Healing spread through Obi-Wan like a breeze, and the pain in his chest slowly faded. The red bruises darkened to blue, then purple.

Anakin's face scrunched, and the bruises lightened to green. When they faded to a dull yellow, Anakin finally cut off the flow.

His hands, however, stayed pressed against Obi-Wan's chest. They brushed lightly across ginger hairs, and onto his shoulders.

Obi-Wan knew he must look a sight. Bruised, no doubt pallid from all his time indoors, hair a mess, and his face rubbery and flushed from a night spent weeping.

Anakin's fingers grazed along the side of Obi-Wan's neck, over where the Emperor had allowed his lightsaber to rest.

"That one'll leave a scar," he said.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I have plenty already."

"It matters to me."

Obi-Wan didn't notice Anakin's hands slowly gliding higher up his neck until they wrapped carefully around his head, thumbs hooking onto his cheeks.

"I used to fantasize about something like this when I was a Padawan," he said, conspiratorially.

Obi-Wan was taken by surprise, and more than a little concerned, by the oddly timed admission, but before he could answer Anakin cut him off.

"You were always so strong, you didn't need me. And now look at you," he said, and he pressed his face in Obi-Wan's hair, warm breath puffing against his scalp. "You're a mess, Obi-Wan."

"And you're heavy. Get off."

Anakin moved back and stared at Obi-Wan intently. "Why did you kiss me?"

_Why indeed._

"I already apologized for that. It was wrong of me to kiss you without your consent, and I won't do it again."

Anakin's eyelids lowered. "I wouldn't mind doing it again." As he said that, Anakin tilted his head down, only for Obi-Wan to press his hand firmly against his chest.

"You didn't seem to like it very much before," Obi-Wan said.

Anakin pouted at him, lower lip jutting out slightly. "Well, you caught me by surprise. Let me make it up to you..."

When Obi-Wan still kept him at arm's length, Anakin relented.

He sighed a little, and pressed his forehead against Obi-Wan's before sliding off of him and onto his side. "All right, no more kissing yet."

"No more kissing _ever again_ ," Obi-Wan replied, a tad higher pitched than normal. His lips felt hot and he unconsciously _licked_ them at the thought of doing it again. Sith-forsaken Hells. It really had been too long since he'd last kissed someone.

"Kissing doesn't have to be romantic, you know," Anakin said, pulling at a loose thread on Obi-Wan's trouser leg. "I like being close to you, Obi-Wan. It doesn't need to mean anything beyond that, not if you don't want it to."

Obi-Wan turned his back to Anakin. "Be that as it may, I still would rather we didn't. Will you respect that?"

"Of course." Anakin nodded his head once. "We can set ground rules. That's a must for any relationship."

"So this is a relationship now?"

He could just hear the smirk in Anakin's voice. "What else are we supposed to call it?"

"You're a married man, Anakin."

The room seemed to darken, though nothing covered the lights. "I'll never love anyone like her, Obi-Wan," Anakin said softly. "If I ever see her again, I will tell her about this, and she can be as mad or as pleased as she likes." The shadow-like weight lifted from the room. "She told me never to tell you this, but she's always thought you were cute. Even as a Padawan. She used to say that if you ever found out about us, that the first thing we should do is invite you to bed."

Obi-Wan could feel a flush creeping across his cheeks and down his neck, and he was glad he wasn't facing Anakin in that moment.

"How thoughtful of her," he said in an undignified squeak, which earned a chuckle out of Anakin.

Anakin smiled. "She'd be jealous that you kissed me first... Can I still touch you?"

The nonchalant manner in which he asked made Obi-Wan frown.

"Touch me where?" he asked his pillow.

"Nowhere I haven't already, unless you want me to." Anakin shifted closer, and slowly worked his arms around Obi-Wan until they were both pressed together, chest to back. "I want to know if I'm still allowed to hold you."

Obi-Wan was suddenly hyper aware of every curve of Anakin that touched him, from the taut ridges of his stomach to the hard muscles of his thighs. The arms around him were strong, one warm and sweaty, the other cold. He leaned away from them, only to push further into Anakin.

"I don't kn--"

Suddenly, he was being turned onto his back, with Anakin holding his arm above his head with his durasteel hand. The younger man looked down at him, eyes melting into a bright golden-yellow.

"Master," he said, an impatient look twitching on his face. "I won't fuck you. I won't kiss you. But let me hold you." Anakin pressed his lean body down, until he was completely flush atop Obi-Wan. "I want to protect you, but how can I do that if you won't let me near?" His bare chest grazed against Obi-Wan's, the friction causing his nipples to perk up. "We're already as close as two people can possibly be through the Force." he turned his face into Obi-Wan's shoulder, and absentmindedly twisted a lock of ginger-fading-to-grey hair around his forefinger. As he did so, Obi-Wan felt a gentle, fond caress down in the deepest parts of his mind. He shook at the closeness, and Anakin smiled against his neck. "What's one more thing?"

Obi-Wan wanted to say that it meant everything. That if he gave all of himself, that there would be nothing left at all. But the words wouldn't come, and the truth was, the closeness was comforting to him. _To be needed so badly_ was comforting, in its own selfish way. He and Anakin were alike in that regard; they both craved something to protect, something to give their own life meaning.

Yet...

How could he be justifying this? What was _wrong_ with him? _This was what the Emperor wanted, wasn't it?_ How could he fall for it? How could he want something like this, after everything that had happened? Not just to him, but to the galaxy, to the Jedi Order, to--

He didn't realise he was hyperventilating until Anakin's metal hand came down to rest on in his hair. Anakin lifted his head up, his face scrunched up in worry.

"Breathe," he murmured, fingers running through the strands. "Do you want me to go?"

Obi-Wan brought his breathing back to normal, heart hammering in his chest like the dull, rhythmic beat of a shoddy hyperdrive. It felt like his brain was pulsing in his skull, and an unlikely stillness descended on him. It could almost be called peaceful.

But this wasn't peace. This was nihility; a hollowness. A quiet without calm. This was what being near Anakin was doing to him, he knew it, but something whispered in his mind to just accept it.

_Live in the moment._

The words were Qui-Gon's, but there was a terrible wrongness to them. They didn't sound like _his_ Master. _They sounded like the Emperor._

He needed to quiet that lingering voice. He needed someone near.

"No," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The shortened version of the Jedi Code was the kind recited by Jedi Younglings during their Initiate Trials. I read somewhere once that Obi-Wan recites the Code to himself when he's scared. I just thought it would be fun if it's the child version.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something finally ejaculates this chapter. You're welcome!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooo boy. This chapter. Specific warnings are available in the end notes.
> 
> Enjoy~

_Their lips spread apart in tandem, and Anakin's tongue darted in just as they closed, flicking warm and wet across Obi-Wan's own. It worked itself lazily across Obi-Wan's teeth, moving away only long enough for Anakin bite into the other man's shoulder._

_Obi-Wan let out a hiss at the sensation, pressing upward. Anakin lapped at the indents his teeth left once, twice, and then they were rutting against each other, Anakin's hands grabbing at Obi-Wan to pull him closer, sweat forming between their bodies as they crushed bare, hot flesh together, as if it was the last thing either one of them would ever do._

_Chest heaving, they stilled for a moment as Anakin licked and kissed his way up to Obi-Wan's face. He dipped his tongue into the center of Obi-Wan's clavicle, dragged it up the curve of his throat, before stopping just above his lips._

_Anakin's breath drifted against Obi-Wan's mouth, warm and heavy, and his eyes were impossibly blue as they stared at one another. He pressed his lithe body down hard again against him, grinding their hips together._

_"Obi...Wan..." Anakin's eyes squeezed shut as he let out a low, needy moan._

_Obi-Wan mumbled something in half-reply, arching his back up as he caught Anakin's mouth with his own, tangling both of his hands in Anakin's curly hair and --_

_Wait._

_Both_ of his hands?

It was at that moment, quite unceremoniously, in fact, that Obi-Wan jolted awake in his bed. He sat up, panting, with his heart thundering frantically in his chest, and his cock hard beneath the blankets.

Oh, Force.

His tunic was soaked through with sweat, gamy and sour, and his neck ached.

Obi-Wan rubbed at it absentmindedly, fingers sliding across the silky plasma scar below his left ear as he looked down at the form beside him. Anakin was curled up in most of the blankets, his wild nebula of hazel hair sticking out in all directions. Even through that mess, Obi-Wan could see that his eyes were still closed, and by the rate of his breathing, he wasn't faking sleep.

One of his arm's stuck out of the cocoon of linens, fingers lightly curled over one of Obi-Wan's thighs.

It had been a few days since Anakin had more or less moved into his bedroom to stay. Though they had both decided to keep at least some semblance of space between them, Anakin always managed to get himself tangled up with Obi-Wan one way or another while they slept. Obi-Wan was just glad he hadn't woken up to Anakin sprawled on top of him.

It wasn't something that had never happened before. Anakin had always been a very active sleeper; it had left sharing a bunk with him on missions or military campaigns a test in patience all on its own.

...Though... Obi-Wan had never had the irrepressible urge to softly kiss him awake then. No, that was something new. Something that he wasn't entirely sure came completely from him.

He buried the thought deep, and nudged Anakin's hand off before swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

He sighed, rubbing his fingertips violently against his eyelids before standing up. The front of his loose trousers tented with his arousal, the apex of which had a _very_ obvious moist spot. Obi-Wan gnawed on his bottom lip as he hastily made his way into the 'fresher. He was _most_ glad he hadn't woken up with Anakin sprawled on top of him.

Once safely in the other room with the door sealed, Obi-Wan tugged down the waistband of his sleep trousers.

His member sprang out, long and quivering. He gave it a sour look before wrapping his warm hand around it and bringing himself to completion with a few quick, methodical strokes, forcing himself to keep his breaths even.

When he was done, he hurriedly pulled his pants and the rest of his clothing off, and started the shower. He turned it to the coldest setting it could possibly go to before stepping within. Better safe than sorry. The frigid water chilled him to the bone, sending goose-pimples shooting up and down Obi-Wan's arm and legs. He welcomed the shock to his system; it allowed him to focus on something besides his own worrisome thoughts.

But they returned, as always.

What was wrong with him? He was behaving like a youngling in puberty. Worse than he ever had with Qui-Gon... there was something uncontrollable about this, something that wasn't right, that wasn't a part of _him._

The thought made his scalp crawl, and his eyes burn like he was about to start sobbing again.

Had the Emperor done this to him? And if so, why?

He resolved to speak to Anakin about it as soon as it felt appropriate, and shut the water off. He stepped out, dripping, onto the pale tiles lining the 'fresher floor, and slicked back his wet hair before grabbing a towel.

It was such a convoluted feeling, to know he didn't want something and yet feeling his body -- and even his _mind_ \-- going against that. Obi-Wan wasn't sure he could withstand the back-and-forth within himself much longer, before he finally snapped.

_Again._

He rubbed at his face until it ached, then wrapped the towel around his hips (he still hadn't properly mastered the art of tucking it around his waist one-handed, so he was forced to hold it closed, much to his chagrin) and made his way back into the bedroom.

Anakin was still asleep when he stepped out, but as Obi-Wan watched his eyelids fluttered for a second, and then opened. They instantly fixed on Obi-Wan's face with a wide, startled stare, before relaxing sleepily. Obi-Wan jerked his gaze away, meaning to ignore him, but Anakin only rolled onto his side to follow him with his eyes as he moved around the room.

"You all right?" he asked.

"Yes, quite," Obi-Wan answered a bit more brusquely than he should have. When Anakin rose his eyebrows curiously, Obi-Wan cleared his throat and stepped over to the drawers containing his clothing (and a few spare tunics of Anakin's that had managed to find their way in there). "I simply felt like a shower."

Anakin hummed in acknowledgement, and it seemed he would keep to himself until Obi-Wan began to struggle to open a drawer.

_Blast it all to the stars and beyond, he couldn't open it and keep the towel on with only one bloody Force-be-damned hand._

"Need some help?"

"I've got it," Obi-Wan said, even as he let out a curse when his towel nearly fell to the floor. "I've got it," he repeated, but Anakin had already slid off the bed anyways at the first sign of his frustration and was walking over.

"I said I've got it," Obi-Wan snapped again, an embarrassed flush rising to his cheeks. He didn't need nor want Anakin near him at the moment, especially in his half-dressed state. He frowned. "Anakin, do not come over here!"

Anakin, as ever, didn't listen. He stopped in front of the drawer, but Obi-Wan held it shut with his hip.

"I just want to help," Anakin said, confusion and the edge of annoyance in his voice. "Why don't you want me to?"

"I can get them myself," Obi-Wan insisted.

Anakin gave him a once-over, eyes pausing on the hand holding up the towel around Obi-Wan's waist.

["Help" by profdrlachfinger](http://profdrlachfinger.tumblr.com)

"I can hold up the towel for you, then," he said, his tone mostly teasing.

" _No._ " Obi-Wan answered, more harshly than he intended. He didn't even realise he had taken a step back.

Anakin's mercurial emotions flipped from playfulness to anger in a heartbeat.

"What do you think I'm going to do to you?" he demanded, quiet and cold.

"Hopefully nothing," Obi-Wan replied, trying to force some levity into the situation. "Just... go back to bed."

Anakin wasn't amused. He moved forward until there was barely a breath between them. "You don't need to be cautious around me, Obi-Wan. I won't do anything to you." As if to somehow prove his point, Anakin grabbed a corner of Obi-Wan's towel and pulled it right off.

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan made to cover himself, only for his wrist to be caught in a different hand and held at eye level.

"I won't _do_ anything to you, Obi-Wan, not if you don't want me to," Anakin repeated, staring at him intently with venom-yellow eyes. "I love you too much to disrespect you like that..." His eyelids drooped, and he let go of Obi-Wan's wrist. With both hands, he balled up the towel and tossed it through the open door of the 'fresher. He then moved past Obi-Wan and fell back onto the bed. "I've seen you naked plenty of times, Master. Just get dressed. I'm going back to sleep."

**~*~**

Obi-Wan didn't speak to Anakin for the rest of the morning, which suited Anakin perfectly fine. Since disobeying the summons of his new Master in favor of Obi-Wan a week or so before (Obi-Wan found it harder and harder to keep up with the date, he just couldn't muster the urge) it seemed that the Emperor had become insistent on working Anakin like a dog.

Anakin obeyed, albeit with an attitude, leaving Obi-Wan alone for extended periods of time, and each instance felt worse than the last.

Obi-Wan wasn't sure whether it was simply from being alone for too long in the same place, or whether it was something within him that the Emperor had nudged, but each time he saw Anakin leaving, a cold panic seized his senses, and he had to fight not to grab him and beg him to stay.

Either Anakin didn't notice, or a more sadistic side of him enjoyed seeing Obi-Wan like that. Out of control, _needing_ him to simply be able to function.

It frustrated Obi-Wan to no end. To need Anakin like that, and yet the same time _not._ He wished he had the Force. He wished he could release these emotions and embrace the calm he had once known so well for so long.

Anakin stepped past him, opening the front door with a slide of his hand.

"I shouldn't be back too late," he said, glancing over his shoulder at Obi-Wan with concern. "Eat something this time. I know you haven't been."

Obi-Wan didn't reply immediately, his jaw twitching.

More insistent _. "Obi-Wan."_

"All right!" Obi-Wan bit his words out harshly, surprised at himself, and he could feel Anakin's worry through the Force. He took a deep breath. "I will," he said, softer. Calmer. "I shall see you later, love."

He didn't realise he'd said it first, not until he heard the click of boot heels and the sudden weight of arms around his shoulders. Obi-Wan leaned back against Anakin's chest, calming a bit when Anakin's nose nuzzled beneath his ear.

"I love you too," Anakin said, clearly pleased. "I won't be long."

Then he was gone, and Obi-Wan had to grit his teeth so as not to scream.

**~*~**

The hours blended together in this place.

It wasn't that Obi-Wan kept abed the entire day. In fact, he was more often than not out in the sitting room. It had been a kindness for Anakin to get rid of the cuff once and for all. An attempt at an apology, Obi-Wan knew, for what had happened in the Emperor's Throne Room.

Obi-Wan sat and read. He watched the holovision. Cleaned to the point of madness. He attempted to meditate more than once, but every time he allowed his mind to focus on a single mundane thing, the memory of Sidious filled his thoughts, like something solid slithering through his marrow. He'd ceased his efforts after that had happened more than once, still too hurt and so, so tired.

It was odd without Padmé there as well. Too quiet, even when he left the holovision on just to have something besides his own mind to listen to. Hells, he would even have welcomed a droid as a companion at this point, just to have someone to hear.

The only solace was that, every once in a while, Obi-Wan would feel a faint nudge in his bond with Anakin, an echo of an echo that he latched on to like a man drowning.

He hated that he needed to.

He didn't eat.

**~*~**

At first, when Anakin finally did return, Obi-Wan was glad. Some semblance of _happy,_ even. But when he noticed Anakin's flinty glare, and a rough hand between his shoulders that came before words, it fell back into simmering rage.

"You told me you would eat," Anakin said, his tone cold. He continued to herd Obi-Wan towards the kitchen. "You didn't even drink anything, do you know how dangerous that is?"

"Anakin, wait," Obi-Wan remembered that he had wanted to talk to Anakin, and he was irritated enough now to overlook his dismay regarding it.

"Whatever it is, _it_ can wait," Anakin said, his worry turning caustic. "Force, Obi-Wan, can't you even take care of yourself?"

That hit deep. Furrowing his brow, Obi-Wan dug his heels into the floor and turned around, stopping Anakin from pushing him any further.

"No, it cannot." Obi-Wan could feel something intense, anger or panic or a little bit of both, building up in him. He had to get out what he needed to, he had to before it got covered up in everything else roiling around in his head. "Anakin, I think the Emperor did something to me--"

Anakin regarded him a moment with a serious look. "What do you mean? What else did he do to you?"

"He..." what could Obi-Wan say? That the Emperor had warped his feelings towards Anakin into something he didn't understand, and that the closer they got the more it hurt? He realised then that he didn't know _how_ to put it into words, and although Anakin could see the distress in his features, the already small well of patience his former pupil possessed was beginning to run dry.

A hand on his shoulder, turning him around and pushing him forward again. "We can discuss it more once you've--"

"No!" Obi-Wan smacked his hand away, his breathing cycling faster and faster. " No, we need to discuss it now. We need to figure this out _now."_

"You _need_ to eat."

"I need you to listen!" Obi-Wan's voice was rising. "This is important!"

Anakin cut a hand through the air. "So important you can't even tell me what it is?" Anakin let out a harsh laugh with no amusement behind it. "So important that I have to worry constantly that I'll come back to you _dead_ if I'm gone for longer than a few hours? No, Obi-Wan, I won't listen to you, because all you're doing is proving that I _can't_ \--"

It finally boiled over, and Obi-Wan couldn't keep himself from screaming like a madman. **_"Listen to me!"_**

Anakin actually did, staring at him with those _kriffing_ Sith eyes.

"Anakin..." Obi-Wan began, chest heaving. The panic was settling in again, harsh and bitter and hard beneath his ribs. "Anakin, I'm leaving. I need to go."

"You have nowhere _to_ go, Obi-Wan."

And there it was. That same constant, awful truth Obi-Wan didn't want to hear. His eyes were stinging.

"No, you simply won't allow me to." Obi-Wan swallowed several times. "What reasons do you have left to... to keep me locked up in here?"

"I'm protecting you, Obi-Wan," Anakin said. "The Jedi Order is gone. I _am_ all you have left. You'll die if you leave me."

Obi-Wan's mouth hung open a moment, before snapping shut. "Perhaps... perhaps that is what I want," he finally said, faintly. He blinked, not nearly as shocked by what he had said as he should have been. He wondered how long he'd been thinking this way without giving it proper voice; how long he'd considered himself to be worth so _little._

Suddenly, there were arms around him, holding him tightly, and Anakin was digging his face into the crook of Obi-Wan's neck. Holding him and holding him and holding him close.

"Stop it."

“Maybe I should have been among them,” Obi-Wan said against his hair, a fuzzy haze falling over his mind.

“I don’t want you talking like that. Stop talking like that,” Anakin murmured against his skin. There was a pause, and Obi-Wan could almost feel the grasp of force fingers around his throat.

“I _should_ be among them,” Obi-Wan continued, the weariness now heavy in his tone. “I’m a contradiction, thanks to you. A Jedi protected by Sith.”

“I don’t protect you because you’re a Jedi,” Anakin said firmly. “That doesn’t matter. It isn’t who _you_ are.”

“It is all that I was, Anakin." A hitch in his voice, turning it into a low keen. "I'm beginning to realise I don’t know what I am now, and it _scares_ me.”

"You're Obi-Wan Kenobi," Anakin whispered. "That hasn't changed, it never will, and I'll _always_ care about you."

The haze dissipated, replaced by fury, and Obi-Wan pressed his hand against Anakin's chest and pushed him back.

"You _don't_ care about me. I don't mean a bloody thing to you!"

Anakin's eyes widened, hurt. "That isn't true. I love--"

"Then why did you allow the Emperor to do what he did? Did it _amuse_ you?" Obi-Wan demanded. He knew he sounded hysterical, but he didn't care. "You could have stopped him. You could have stopped him before he...before he...” _Did this to me_. _Did this to both of us._ A fresh wave of tears rolled down his cheeks, and Obi-Wan leaned his face down.

Anakin crowded up against him again, gently taking Obi-Wan's head in his hands. He tilted it up, and Obi-Wan could make out equal parts understanding and distress in his features.

"I was angry, Obi-Wan, but it was a mistake. I told you, I won't allow him near you again."

A pained hiccup escaped Obi-Wan and he tried to pull his face away. "I don't believe you," he said, nearly inaudible.

Anakin caressed him. "What can I do to prove it to you? Just tell me, Obi-Wan, and I'll do it. I swear."

_Renounce the Dark Side. Kill the Emperor. Tell me where the children are. Let me leave._ There were so many things crowding in Obi-Wan's head that he could scarcely see straight.

But there was one thing he knew he needed now, more desperately than anything else.

"The Force," he croaked. "Give me the Force back. Completely."

Anakin's face scrunched up in confliction for a moment, before relaxing into a soft, resolute smile. He dragged his fingers lightly through Obi-Wan's hair, around the shell of his ear, traced the angle of his beard.

"Okay."

Obi-Wan blinked up at him, not daring to allow himself to believe it. Not daring to hope.

There was always a catch with the Sith.

"What must I do in return?" he asked warily.

One strong arm circled his waist, pulling him tight against Anakin. "Nothing. I just want you to be happy, Obi-Wan. With me."

Obi-Wan probed at the mental wall in his mind. The one that had been there since he'd woken up in this Force-forsaken place. It still didn't budge.

He swallowed. "Do you--" the rest of his sentence ended in a high pitched gasp in the back of his throat as the wall gave way.

What had been a drip of the Force from Anakin became a sudden cascade, blinding him for a moment with its intensity. It engulfed him, filled him, until it seemed to sweep across the entire room, and his consciousness expanded along with it.

How had he lived bereft of this?

His moment of ecstatic, euphoric shock passed, and with one deep breath he closed his eyes and allowed his feelings to float away on the currents of the Force. Frustration, fear, horror, panic... each one faded to a dull ache in the back of his mind. It was a quick, sloppy fix, and it wouldn't last without constant mediation, but for now it was enough.

Anakin continued to hold him quietly, until Obi-Wan opened his eyes once more. A few stray tears escaped as he did.

Anakin smiled down at him. "Now do you believe me?" he asked.

Obi-Wan slowly nodded, feeling as though he was in an entirely different body. It seemed like years since he'd felt like himself; since he'd felt like he could actually _breathe,_ and yet he didn't answer.

A unyielding weight guided his head to the younger man's chest, and Anakin brushed his gloved hand through Obi-Wan's hair. Their Force signatures tangled with one another, so convoluted and twisted that for a moment neither could remember where one of them ended and the other began.

"Good." Anakin other hand tightened in the material of Obi-Wan's tunic, and Obi-Wan couldn't see the pale yellow-and-gold of his eyes, without a hint of blue in them. Anakin's lips pressed into his crown. "Good."

[By seaweedstarshine](http://seaweedstarshine.tumblr.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for:  
> *suicidal ideation  
> *smutty smut smut

**Author's Note:**

> -Originally begun November 25th, 2015  
> -I can also be found at faeymouse over on Tumblr, if what you're really here for is my radiant personality and opinions  
> 


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